Anna had faced just about every dangerous wild animal in Kenya.

And yet she’d never been as horrified as she was now, facing Jack and hearing what he had to say to her. This was exactly what she’d been afraid of, what she had known would happen if he found out about Pippa… .

He couldn’t take Pippa away from her. No. Way.

“Jack. Don’t talk like that. You don’t take a baby from its mother. You can’t.” Her hands felt numb and she flexed her fingers.

“I’m not leaving her here. My name is on that birth certificate. I have rights.”

“The right to what? Uproot her? Scare her? Take her from the only family she’s ever known? You want to take her screaming and kicking, Jack? Is that what your father-daughter bonding experience is going to be about?”

Jack climbed back into the Jeep.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“I’m not going anywhere until you agree not to do anything crazy.”

Dear Reader,

I’ve always been fascinated by elephants. Such majestic and powerful creatures, yet under an elephant’s thick skin is a nurturing, soulful heart and mind that values family, community and love. Yes, love. They’re emotional creatures who mourn the loss of loved ones, protect and care for both their own young as well as orphans, and unfortunately, due to brutal poaching, know firsthand that some wounds never heal. And though they march on to the next watering hole, they remember. Behavioral researchers have observed them holding grudges and reacting to the mere scent of someone who has caused them pain in the past.

Memories and experiences shape us, often in good ways, but sometimes they prevent us from embracing life. Fear of abandonment, trust and self-worth are a few of the themes in my debut novel, The Promise of Rain. Although both my hero and heroine have marched on with their lives—on opposite sides of the world from each other—neither one realizes just how much they’ve allowed their past wounds to erode their self-worth and ability to trust in unconditional love.

We all express love differently. Some show … some tell … and others silently ache for love. Sometimes all it takes is one drop to spring a heart to life, so give without expectations, because every living thing has a unique way of reciprocating love.

I hope you enjoy The Promise of Rain, the first in a three-book series for the Heartwarming line. I love hearing from readers, so send me a note at rulasinara@gmail.com or pop by my website at www.rulasinara.com or blog at www.awritersrush.blogspot.com.

Wishing you love and acceptance,

Rula Sinara

The Promise of Rain

Rula Sinara

www.millsandboon.co.uk

RULA SINARA

After a childhood enriched with exotic travels and adventures (both in books and real life), Rula Sinara is now settled in rural Virginia with her husband, three boys and crazy but endearing pets. When she’s not writing, she’s busy attracting wildlife to her yard, watching romantic movies (despite male protests), or researching trees on her garden wish list. According to her kids, she’s obsessed with anything that grows, including the seed of a story idea and the love between unlikely characters.

Acknowledgments

I’d like to thank every writer, reader and blogger who, knowingly or unknowingly, taught, encouraged and inspired me. I’ve made so many dear friends, writers and industry professionals alike, who selflessly helped propel my writing dream forward and have stuck by my side along the way. You know who you are and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for every opportunity you’ve given me.

Thank you to Mills & Boon and everyone who is a part of their family for being there from the start. The invaluable educational and writing opportunities, community support and guidance for unpublished writers you provide made all the difference.

Also, a heartfelt thanks to animal charities and wildlife organizations who strive to stop both animal cruelty and the endangerment of species.

Dedication

To Stephanie, because sometimes friends know us better than we know ourselves. I’ll never forget the day we were having a heart-to-heart while washing dishes, and you turned to me and said that I should write a romance. Here it is, my friend.

To Kaily, whose fated friendship has meant the world to me. Thanks for sharing the writing journey with me, for all your advice and for being my rock along the way. Thank you for everything. There are no words …

To Jeannie, for taking me under her wing. I can’t thank you enough for your friendship, advice and constant support. This story would have never come to life if it weren’t for your caring nudge and belief in me. You opened the door for this book. I can’t thank you enough.

To Victoria, my extraordinary, gifted editor, for seeing something worth nurturing in my writing, from the first manuscript I ever penned, to the story between these covers. Your guidance, advice and faith in me have made this book so much stronger. You’ve been there from the start and you’ve made me a better writer. I’m forever grateful.

To my family for encouraging my love of writing since childhood and for believing I always had it in me. And to my guys at home for their support, patience and for taking up the slack when I needed to write. Thank you infinity.

In memory of Anwhar … a kind, patient man and giving soul. Your friendship and advice will never be forgotten.

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

“HEY!” DR. ANNA BEKKER shielded her face as she peered up into the sprawling acacia tree that shaded her observation platform, and spotted her primate stalker. One bite of leftover fruit tossed to him in sympathy and four years later the little guy was as much a part of camp as anyone.

“Ambosi, you sadistic fool, fruit pits are not the way to get a girl’s attention. Get lost. I’m not playing,” Anna said, rubbing the lingering sore spot on the top of her head. He cackled and grinned before scrambling off on his three limbs to a nearby grove of elephant pepper trees for more ammunition. Some guys could not take a hint.

A screech pierced the background symphony of the Serengeti and an elephant rumble thrummed the air as the blood-orange hues of daybreak embraced the left side of Mount Kilimanjaro in the distance. Such a breathtaking balance of power and serenity. A daily affirmation that she’d made the right decision five years ago. Anna downed the last of her coffee.

Time to face her beloved chaos.

Tightening her fingers around the metal handle of her mug, she braced herself on the edge of the wooden platform she’d helped erect, and hopped down. A mushroom of dust billowed around her boots.

Anna looked up at the sky. Solid, morbid blue. They needed rain—badly—and they were still a month away from the start of the next rainy season. The Busara Research camp had tapped into an underground stream, but animals didn’t have pump wells or deep roots. Even Busara’s well was getting low. If any more riverbeds dried up, the herds would either move beyond Anna’s observation area, or die. As if the poaching numbers this year hadn’t been bad enough. She sighed and trudged toward the bustle and calls of a camp coming to life. Rounds before research had become her game plan over the past few years. Busara included a small nursery, mainly for baby elephants orphaned by poaching, but really for any animal Anna didn’t have the heart to turn away.

Even cheeky little monkeys.

She passed the wooden enclosures and metal-roofed structure that served as her clinic, and headed for the even more rustic multipurpose tent that doubled as their kitchen and mess hall. She needed her morning dose of sweet, little girl kisses before going on her rounds, another daily reassurance that she was doing what was best for everyone. She waved at two keepers leading their patients out of the pens for a morning bath, but dropped her hand at the skin-prickling shriek that came from the far side of camp.

The children.

Anna’s chest tightened and she took off at a run, dodging another keeper on his way to their well with a metal bucket. She rushed into the mess tent, the screen door slamming behind her.

“Usijali, Anna. Don’t worry. She’s fine. Just couldn’t wait for her ugali to cool down,” said Niara, Anna’s friend and nanny, as she held a cup of potable water to Pippa’s mouth. Framed between rampant curls and the rim of the cup, two green eyes widened.

“Mommy!” Burned tongue forgotten, her little girl pushed the cup away and shimmied off the wooden bench. Anna scooped her up. “I got a boo-boo,” Pippa said, pinching the tip of her tongue between two fingers and tugging it as far out of her mouth as she could. Not all the mash had washed down. Lovely.

“I see that,” Anna said, her pulse still racing from the scare. “But how many times have I said don’t scream like that unless there’s danger?”

Crying from pain, Anna could understand. After all, Pippa was only four. But the shrill death call her baby had taken to recently was getting old fast. Anna dreaded what Pippa’s next animal imitation would be. She’d already mastered baboons, hyenas, elephants and a number of birds. This piercing alarm of a guinea fowl defending its nest took crying wolf to a whole new level.

“You told me burns are dangewus,” Pippa insisted.

Yes, she had. Anna wrinkled her nose. At least her daughter hadn’t taken up biting...yet.

“Never mind. Next time, wait until Auntie Niara says the grits are cool.”

“I did.”

“No, she didn’t,” Haki said, sitting up a little straighter.

Only one year older than Pippa, Niara’s son took his responsibility as the older child to heart—insisting on fairness and the following of rules. Ever since he’d overheard the keepers talk of the tragic fate of a curious Masai child who’d wandered away from her village, he’d chosen to stick to the rules and stay close to his mother...and made sure Pippa did, too. Poor Haki had no clue that he was inadvertently challenging his headstrong playmate. Give her a few years and he wouldn’t know what hit him.

He wouldn’t know what hit him.

Anna pressed her lips together, steeling herself against the sadness that came in random spurts, like whenever Pippa’s determined expression mirrored her father’s. A constant reminder of the choice Anna had made. He’s never going to forgive you. No one will. They won’t understand. Anna scratched the back of her neck with both hands. Dwelling on it wouldn’t get her anywhere. She pulled the elastic band out of her hair, combed her hair back with her fingers and reset her ponytail.

“How about you finish your breakfast. I bet it’s ready now, and I need to get to work,” Anna said.

“Come, Pippa,” Niara said, extending her hand. “Let Mama eat something, too.”

“I already had coffee.”

“Coffee isn’t breakfast. You’ll start to look like Ambosi if you don’t eat more.”

The children giggled and Anna couldn’t resist smiling. Niara’s melodic emphasis on her syllables when she spoke English always added to the warmth of her innocent humor. With Niara, everything came from the heart. A resilient heart, despite the trauma the woman had suffered. After they met, Niara had wasted no time in making sure Anna didn’t pity her, or herself.

“No, really. I’ll break for lunch early. I need to check on Bakhari’s bandages.” Anna turned to Haki and Pippa. “Work hard on your books and maybe there’ll be time for a ride to see the herds.”

“Yay!” Both children clapped, spreading sticky fig nectar and ugali on their palms.

“How are we on supplies?” Anna asked, prompted by the food mess. Niara wrinkled her nose and shrugged. Great. So they were getting low. She hoped they had enough funds to cover a restocking trip. Especially for water purification.

Approaching the end of her research grant meant the area’s watering holes and creeks weren’t the only things drying out. Getting her research permit extended a second time wasn’t going to happen if funds weren’t available. As to whether funds were available, Anna still hadn’t gotten any email replies.

It didn’t help that their power had gone out. She rubbed her temples. Going back to the United States was not an option. Anna wasn’t ready to go back. Not now. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Facing the past meant explaining the present...and she couldn’t risk losing more than she already had. Her gut turned and she swallowed hard against the coffee’s acidity. She was jumping the gun again. Worrying for nothing. She took a deep breath and forced a carefree smile.

“Okay. I need to run an inventory of necessities at the clinic, too. Let me know what we need beyond that and we’ll make plans.” She rounded the table, kissed Pippa and Haki on top of their heads and left before Niara could read her face.

The funding would come through. It had to.

* * *

ANNA DROPPED THE USED syringe in a plastic container. Her head keeper, Ahron, whisked it away. All supplies had to be kept outside the pens, far from trunk reach. She ran her hands gently around Bakhari’s ankle, checking for any loose wrapping. His bandages were holding nicely. They’d once dealt with a baby elephant who had used his trunk to work off his dressings during the night. Trunks were tricky. Anna stood and scratched the soft spot behind the baby’s ear. He flapped it gratefully. Hopefully, the antibiotics would do their job. Blasted snares.

They’d been lucky in recent months, but they lost an orphan often enough, and it tore her up every time. Painful memories. Bakhari looked at Anna, then wrapped his trunk loosely around her arm, as if to say that he understood she’d been there, too. And maybe he did. There was something to be said for an animal’s sixth sense. Anna had witnessed the phenomenon and believed the stories she’d heard and read about.

“Did he drink any milk?” she asked, as she unwound herself from Bakhari’s hug and forced herself back into clinical mode.

“Demanding one, he is,” Ahron said. “Pulled my cover off several times to let me know he was hungry.”

“That’s a good sign. Thanks.” Anna left the pen and stopped outside to log notes on Bakhari’s treatment and progress, noting the feedings and outdoor exercise schedules.

She looked up at the sound of the camp’s battered mobile vet Jeep approaching. A trail of dust lingered in its wake. Kamau must have gone back out in search of Bakhari’s mother, after not finding her near the calf yesterday. Elephant cows were highly maternal, and herds stuck together to protect their young, so finding Bakhari alone raised questions. Anna shielded her eyes against the sun and watched them approach. She was so grateful for having another vet on staff. Kamau’s dedication to their work at Busara was heart-rending and had made all the difference since he joined them shortly after her research began.

“Anything?” she asked, stepping forward after the Jeep came to a stop.

Kamau jumped down. His team followed suit, unloading the gear and supply boxes that needed cleaning or replenishing. The grim lines on Kamau’s face said it all. Anna dropped her hand to her side.

“Oh.” She let out a breath and shook her head. “Where?”

“About forty-five kilometers southwest of here. Poachers. No sign of a herd. The herd might have gone back to find the calf, or taken the rest to safety. I already radioed in to the authorities.”

“This is bad,” Anna said. The crackdown on poaching had made a difference in recent years, but unfortunately, hadn’t eradicated it. But this incident... Forty-five kilometers was too close. The camp location had been chosen specifically because of its slight elevation and proximity to the range of one particular herd they’d been studying. If that herd got chased away, or killed... Anna draped her hand across the back of her neck and squeezed at the growing tension. It was more than the research that worried her. The deaths were wrong, and the orphans, well, Busara couldn’t afford any more. If she had it her way, Busara would grow into a fully equipped animal rescue center. But that wasn’t possible right now.

“Things are worse than you think,” Kamau said, walking away.

“Worse? What do you mean?” Nothing was worse than illegal, merciless killing. Anna returned the clipboard to its nail on the post outside the pen and doubled her steps to catch up with Kamau as he trudged toward the mess tent. He stopped a few yards from it and waited for her.

“We finally fixed the generator last night and got the computer running, although the satellite internet connection did give me some trouble at first. We got an email from your Dr. Miller. Apparently, he’s sending someone out here to check on our status,” he said, lowering his already deep voice so it wouldn’t carry through the screens.

Okay. Much, much worse. Why would Dr. Miller do that? Especially with such short notice.

“Like an audit? That’s ridiculous. He has reports and photos, and he’s never questioned my requests. It’s not like we’re living an extravagant life here,” Anna said, bracing her hands on her hips.

Of course, this grant request involved permit extension fees, an endorsement and lots of paperwork to prove that she’d complete the study and produce a paper out of it. Anna understood that more was on the line this time, but an audit? Overkill, Miller.

Kamau splayed his palms.

“He didn’t use the word, but what else do you call sending someone from his board out here to report back on our status? According to him, it’s not a big deal. The fellow happens to be in Nairobi giving a lecture and doing some collaborative work. Miller suggested he ‘drop by,’ as if Busara was in the neighborhood.”

Right. Just like some of the locals were convinced that, coming from the States, she had to be best friends with Tom Caine of Beastly In-Laws. She had never even seen the show and Miller had clearly not seen a map of western Kenya. Anna shook her head.

“When?” she asked.

“Yesterday.”

That figured. Expected yesterday and not yet here. Africa time. Lax schedules were such an accepted part of life here that Anna wasn’t sure why she still bothered wearing her watch. She rubbed its dusty face with the pad of her thumb. Given the delay in getting Miller’s email, their visitor’s tardiness was a relief. She scanned the camp. Everything seemed to be running as smoothly as could be expected. Nothing that would jeopardize funding other than several more orphans that Miller wasn’t yet aware of, and the threat of poachers. He’d try to use that on her again, but Anna had no doubt they were safe. She’d never have Niara and the children here with her otherwise. Kamau put a lot of miles on their Jeep. None of the actual killings had occurred close enough to camp to endanger anyone. Yes, the last killing had been closer than usual, but the poachers were after tusked elephants. There was nothing of value to them at camp. Miller didn’t understand the difference—just like he didn’t comprehend that Busara wasn’t “around the block” from Nairobi. All he worried about was liability and cost control.

“He’s never sent anyone, Anna. This can’t be good,” Kamau said.

“You’re right. Having someone show up at the same time as this incident isn’t ideal, but Miller has never denied me funding before, and he’s fully aware of the orphan nursery. And as far as the Kenyan government is concerned, I’m helping the wildlife. There’s no logical reason for not getting the permits and funds needed. It’ll be fine. Like you said, this person just happens to be in Kenya for other reasons. You’re worrying for nothing. This is a bunch of red tape. Miller is dotting his i’s,” Anna said, trying to believe her own words. But she wasn’t convinced the nursery’s growing needs wouldn’t pose a problem.

After all, Miller had been her mentor in vet school. He’d supported her one-year exchange student internship to a Kenyan wildlife reservation after graduation, and had taken on her study suggestion after she told him Kenya had become home and she wasn’t ready to leave. She didn’t mention that she had a child until the specifics of the arrangements went through. As far as he was concerned, the father was in Kenya. Miller didn’t ask and she didn’t tell, knowing full well there were things an employer couldn’t legally question.

Dr. Miller had included Busara in a university trust he’d formed to support animal rescue work and research. But he had, over the past year, expressed his concern for her. He’d offered to keep the initiative going with a replacement vet so that she could raise her daughter in “civilization.” Anna had refused. She hoped this wasn’t another attempt of his to replace her. That this person “dropping by” wasn’t a prospective vet scoping out his or her future lodgings. Anna couldn’t let Miller lose faith in her. This was more than her project. It was her home.

Kamau opened the mess tent’s screen door, but turned back to Anna before entering.

“I’m not sure I share your optimism, but let me know when our visitor arrives so that I can smile for them.” He gave an exaggerated grin, sarcastic yet beautiful and white against his dark skin. He was quite handsome when he managed to relax. And completely silly-looking with the uncharacteristic expression. Anna laughed.

“Now, how could they refuse that smile anything,” she said.

He disappeared into the tent and she watched through the screen as he teased the children, who were doing some activity at a table with Niara. Anna’s heart swelled at the sound of Pippa’s giggles when Kamau pretended not to know who was hiding under the mop of curls. There was plenty of love here. Plenty of spirit and noble intentions. The truest examples of right and wrong and selflessness.

Nothing like the past.

Anna couldn’t think of a more civilized place to raise a child.

* * *

JACKSON HARPER HAD always assumed four-wheel drives had shock absorbers—and four wheels. After the last pothole, he wasn’t so sure this vehicle had either left. He grabbed the frame of the windshield to keep from getting ejected, and tried to swallow despite all the dust in his mouth. He didn’t dare let go long enough to dig for the water bottle in his backpack. As exhausting as his trip had been so far, at least the flight from Nairobi to the small airstrip in the central part of the Amboseli Reserve had been uneventful. But once his driver left the paved road for a more...rustic path toward Busara, things went downhill. And Jack considered himself an outdoorsman. Somehow, camping out by a lake stocked with fish near his parents’ home in Pennsylvania didn’t come close to getting chased by a female rhino whose calf had ventured too far from the cover of brush. It had been only a matter of yards, but Jack’s adrenaline was still pumping strong.

As if knowing that in minutes he’d come face-to-face with Anna Bekker wasn’t enough to cause arrhythmia. Dr. Bekker. Five years, three days since she’d rejected his proposal. Since she’d refused to even consider his reasoning behind asking his best friend to marry him. A frisson of panic caused Jack to look back through a cloud of dust. What if mama rhino hadn’t given up?

“Usijali. Don’t worry.” The driver laughed. Jack turned toward him, annoyed by the implication.

“I wanted to make sure she wasn’t following us into Busara,” Jack said. To Anna.

“Ahh. We are the invaders. Not her. Don’t worry. She was just showing who is boss.”

“Very reassuring,” Jack said, wiping his upper lip with the back of his hand.

No doubt Anna would feel he’d invaded her territory, too. As for losing her and destroying their friendship, he knew that had already happened years ago. The roar of her silence had carried clear across ocean and land to the corner of his lab. His research on immunology and genetic resistance in wildlife populations had earned him a lot of respect since then, but apparently not hers. And that was fine with him. If it weren’t for his collaborative work with a researcher in Nairobi and his department head, Dr. Miller, he wouldn’t be here. But Miller had appointed him to oversee trust and grant fund distribution. He’d baited him, too, saying flat out that Dr. Bekker ran Busara and that he needed Jackson to check on Busara’s increasing expenses. That the department’s projects and expenses needed pruning if they were to adequately fund Jack’s latest research initiative.

Jack had been too stupid to resist. Too curious.

The early afternoon sun seemed to crackle against his forearm. The dry heat would have been nice but for the intense equatorial rays. He pulled the brim of his re-purposed fisherman’s hat down to shield his eyes. His Oakley sunglasses had disappeared back at the airport in Nairobi, when he’d set them down on top of his luggage while looking through his travel paperwork. Lesson learned, as was the fact that there was no overnight delivery for internet shoppers where he was headed.

They rounded a short hill covered in tall, dry grasses and shrubs, and came to a flat clearing. The driver slowed down considerably, pointing ahead for Jack’s benefit.

Busara.

Nothing but wooden, tentlike structures, two with metal roofs, and a number of enclosures to the west side of camp. More like a cross between a tiny village and a campsite. The juxtaposition of cinnamon-colored land dappled with acacia trees against the cool, snowcapped mountain backdrop was a photographer’s dream. He hoped his camera was still intact...and not missing. Maybe he’d capture one last picture of Anna to torture himself with.

An elephant blared and a chorus of raucous calls followed. The Jeep veered around the remains of a tree that looked as if it had been beaten down and crushed, then made a straight line for Busara.

The driver came to a stop near the center of camp and climbed out, but Jackson didn’t move.

She had stepped out from one of the pens and stood there, beautiful as ever, except for the look of shock—or, more likely, horror—on her face.

She’d changed, though. Still slender, yet more curved. How many times had he imagined seeing her again? How many hours of sleep had he lost to anticipation? He knew they had access to food and supplies as needed, but during his flight he’d dreamed up a ridiculous picture of her as emaciated, waiting for him to rescue her from the wilds of Africa, desperate to return home. Fat chance. She looked about as happy to see him as that mother rhino had been.

Anna shifted her feet and glanced toward one of the screened-in tents, then back at him.

Too late to run and hide, Anna, but don’t worry—two days and I’m gone for good.

* * *

THE CLOUD OF volcanic dust that had churned up around the Jeep was still settling like smoke in a disappearing act, but he wasn’t disappearing.

Jack? No way. Impossible.

Anna stared, unable to move her legs for the life of her. Her thoughts scattered like a startled flock of jacanas. The email from Dr. Miller... She knew he was sending someone to check up on them, but Jack? It couldn’t be. He didn’t work for Miller, at least not that she was aware of, and Miller would have said something. The university’s vet school and associated research departments were a relatively small community. Wouldn’t her boss have at least mentioned his name? Unless it was in the email and Kamau hadn’t thought his name made a difference.

Pippa’s laughter carried from the mess tent. Had Dr. Miller suspected all along and sent Jack on purpose? Why now? The lunch Anna had managed to break for less than an hour ago churned in her stomach. She needed to think straight. Control the situation. Prioritize. She needed to get to the mess tent. She needed to tell Niara to keep the kids inside, but she had no way to do that. Not with Jack staring her down.

“This our man?” Kamau asked in a low voice, as he stepped up behind her and waved at Jack. Anna nodded, unable to find her voice.

This wasn’t supposed to happen now. She wasn’t ready for this. Even though her dream of seeing him again still managed to creep out of hiding every sunrise, Jack standing there in person changed everything. He wasn’t here for her. Miller had sent him. That ruined everything.

The driver was busy unloading some cardboard boxes marked “supplies.” Apparently Miller had taken some initiative with the last summary she’d sent him regarding what they needed money for this month. Jack grabbed his backpack and what looked like a large metal case, and began closing in on her. Anna braced herself. Treat this like any other emergency situation. In a calm, cool manner.

Calm? With Jack, and everything his presence ever did to her heart, here in her world? Right. Calm as a wildebeest with its butt in the jaws of a croc.

“Anna,” Jack said with a curt nod. He hiked his backpack higher onto his left shoulder, then took off his hat, tucked it under one arm.

“Jack. Um...” She turned to Kamau. Get it together. She cleared her throat. “Kamau. This is Jackson Harper. Jack, meet Dr. Kamau Odaba, the other vet here.”

Jack shook Kamau’s hand.

“Jambo. Call me Kamau. I hope your trip was...comfortable,” he said. Anna did a double take at Kamau’s grin. He’d actually done it! As if a grin could get her out of Hades.

“Absolutely. The scenery is incredible,” Jack said. He raked his hair back and his tight, warm brown waves, tamed by his hat, sprang back to life. He’d always hated the curl in his hair and kept it cropped short and neat, almost military style, for as long as Anna could remember. Several days’ worth of stubble shaded his jawline, too. So unlike him. And he looked really good in these surroundings, in an Indiana Jones sort of way. Reality, Anna. Stick to reality.

“Would you prefer a hug?”

Anna realized belatedly he’d extended his hand and was waiting. She shot her hand out and shook his. No way was he getting a hug, especially not with that daring, smug look on his face.

Get it together, Anna. This is your turf.

She straightened her stiff shoulders and released a steady breath. “Welcome to Busara. It was great of you to bring along some supplies. How long are you staying?” she added, regretting how rude she sounded.

“As long as he likes, of course. Come, I’ll show you where you can stay and settle in,” Kamau said, putting a hand on Jack’s shoulder and guiding him toward the tent adjacent to their mess hall. He looked back, giving Anna a “make nice” frown. She jogged after them. Niara. She had to warn Niara. She needed time to figure out how to handle this.

“Wait,” she said. “I think you should show him the clinic first. I’m sure you can’t wait to see the setup. Right, Jack?”

“I do want to see it, but I’d like to unpack my lab supplies first. I’m only planning to be here a couple of days, and I have some samples to collect.” He started walking away, acting as if she was nothing more than a forgotten acquaintance. Of all the—

“Dr. Bekker.” Ahron stuck his head out of the clinic to their left. “I caught a snake in one of the pens. I put it in a jar for you.”

Jack stopped in his tracks and turned, looking at Anna with raised brows. Ahron noticed the newcomer and looked at Anna apologetically.

“Don’t worry. It’s not like it’s a black mamba,” he added, for Jack’s benefit.

Anna smiled and shrugged. Not a mamba, maybe, but the area’s pythons were deadly, too. Snakes were fairly shy about venturing through their camp, but anything could happen, which was why Niara never left the children alone. Ever. If she wasn’t with them, then Anna or another responsible person was. Plus, the kids were kept, for the most part, in screened-in areas. Jack wouldn’t be able to use that against her. She knew how to run a safe operation.

Jack cranked his neck to the side and ran a finger along the collar of the short-sleeved button-down he wore untucked, then wiped his palm on his jeans. He adjusted his backpack again. He didn’t look too comfortable and she was pretty sure it wasn’t the heat.

Perfect. A distraction.

Anna mimicked Kamau’s earlier grin. “Would you like to go see it? It’s in a jar,” she said.

“Mama! Niara said we could see the babies!”

Anna looked past Jack and her heart sank into the hot dirt. Niara came out of the mess tent with Pippa perched on her hip and Haki holding her hand. Jack turned his head to follow her gaze and almost turned back. Almost. He did a double take, zeroed in on Pippa and froze. His shoulders tensed visibly. Anna closed her eyes, but didn’t dare imagine what was going through his head.

“It’s okay with you, Anna? We didn’t mean to interrupt,” Niara said, glancing shyly at Jack.

“It’s...it’s fine.” Her voice came out weak, even to her own ears. She opened her eyes slowly. “Just stay to the outside of the enclosures, on this side.”

Niara passed with the kids, giving Anna a subtle frown. Jack’s gaze stayed trained on them. Kamau looked at Anna and cocked his head. He couldn’t know, but clearly no one had missed the uncanny resemblance—auburn curls, green eyes—between Pippa and Jack. Anna could see suspicion shading their glances. Only suspicion, she reminded herself. She hadn’t said or explained or admitted to anything. She still had some control over the situation and she needed to use it to keep Jack from closing himself off to reason. She knew firsthand how single-minded he could be.

Look where it had gotten them.

Jack stared right at Anna and she fought to hold his gaze with equal frost. She couldn’t let him win this. He narrowed his eyes and brushed the corner of his mouth against his sleeve. She tucked back a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail and forced a smile as she set her hands on her hips, challenging him, though she felt as if she’d crawled under the bones in an elephant graveyard and died. She’d never felt so hopeless or as alienated from him as she did right now.

Poached by a single look.

* * *

JACK GLANCED AT the kids peering into the wooden pens before turning back to face Anna. Gone was the innocent, trusting smile he remembered from their college days. Instead, her skin glowed with the same kiss of sun that had lightened her tawny hair, and the expression in her burned-sugar eyes was knowing and determined.

She reached up and scratched her high cheekbone, then pushed the hair back at her temple, a habit she apparently hadn’t broken. Nervous? Maybe it was his imagination. But one thing wasn’t. The little girl who’d just called her “Mama” didn’t look a thing like her.

Jack’s head pounded and his throat felt dry. The sun. The heat. Man, he wished he was hallucinating, but no way were the indecipherable emotions ratcheting through him fake. And Anna stood before him as real as he’d ever hoped, and as disappointed as when he’d last seen her.

Disappointment. Apparently that was the one thing they had in common.

Jack shook his head and adjusted his grip on his bags. Anna scratched her elbow, then her neck, and shrugged, as if his standing there was a daily routine and she had no secrets. Nothing to hide. She’d forgotten what an open book her face was to him. She never could put on an act. Not with him.

She gestured toward his load. “I guess it makes sense to put your stuff away first. I could give you a tour after that. Not afraid of snakes, are you?” she asked.

Her attempt at a lighthearted tone was pathetic. He shook his head.

“I’m not the person who looks like they stepped on one,” he said, then walked off.

Anna Bekker had it coming.

CHAPTER TWO

JACK SET HIS BELONGINGS on the cot adjacent to where Dr. Odaba said he slept, glad that the doctor had been called off as soon as they’d reached the framed tent. Jack regretted displacing whoever the cot belonged to, but had been told that the keepers usually ended up sleeping with the baby elephants. It improved survival rates. In any case, he needed a minute to digest what had just happened outside. What he’d seen. He sat on the edge of the cot and braced his forearms on his legs, trying to run some calculations. Jet lag and lack of sleep weren’t helping. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

That little girl had to be, what, four or five? She spoke better than his three-year-old nephew, was a bit taller, too. He rubbed at the tightness in his chest. No way. The Anna he knew would have said something. The Anna he knew, who’d worn a promise ring through high school and veterinary school, who’d always valued family, would have said something. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions.

He fished out his bottle and took a swig of warm water, then got up and paced, trying to remember the details of what had happened that day after her graduation, when everything she’d ever believed in had shattered.

And she’d turned to him.

Big mistake.

He’d tried to do the right thing, tried to be there for her. As much as he’d hoped to be, he knew he wasn’t good enough for her then, and she’d apparently agreed. Her choice had said it all. Nothing had changed.

Two abrupt taps at the screen door had him looking up. Anna. A mixture of fury and longing for what might have been smacked him in the gut. No. Never look back. “We need to talk, Jack,” Anna said through the screen. She waited with her hands tucked in her front pockets, eyes on the floor. Couldn’t face him, could she?

He got up and took two easy strides to the door. He opened it wide and turned his palm to the room. “Mi casa es su casa. How would they say that in Swahili? But wait, I’m guessing you don’t need an invitation, since you seem to run things as you see fit.”

“Jack, even with the canvas rolled down, voices carry. We need to talk in private. Please.”

He stepped closer to her, deliberately breaching her personal space. She looked up at him with doelike innocence. He folded his arms and lowered his voice.

“If you want to talk in private, guess I can assume she’s mine.”

Anna looked away, but not before he saw her eyes glisten with moisture that she swallowed hard against. He watched the tense movement of her neck and the grinding of her jaw. He remembered how she would grind her teeth while studying for an exam. He used to stay in the library with her, long after the research labs sequestered in the top floors of the vet school were locked up. He’d spend half the time working on his master’s thesis and half watching over her. Waiting to make sure she got back to her apartment safely. Didn’t seem as if she needed help anymore.

“Well, there’s my answer. You think you could spare me a few words to go along with that? You think maybe I deserve at least that?” he asked.

She took a deep breath and Jack didn’t miss her jitteriness when she exhaled. “That’s why I’m here. I have the Jeep waiting. We won’t go far. Just enough for privacy.”

He grabbed his hat off the cot and followed her out. Everyone paused midtask and shot them a curious look. She was right. No privacy. Jack got in the Jeep and didn’t say a word until they’d parked under the shade of a copse of trees overlooking a dried creek bed. Below Kilimanjaro’s taunting, crystalline snowcap, pockets of haze blurred the horizon like ripples of water. A mirage. A lie, like everything else. He pulled off his hat and scanned the distance. Nothingness. She’d been living in the middle of nowhere—with his child. The tension in his neck shot down his back.

“I don’t even know her name,” he said.

Anna turned off the engine. “Pippa. Not short for anything. She’s four. She’ll be five on Valentine’s Day.”

Jack scoffed. Oh, the irony. His daughter’s birthday fell on a day meant for love. Meant for couples. “Where was she born?”

“A hospital in Nairobi. Pippa Rose...Harper.”

Jack suddenly felt numb with cold, and then just as abruptly, he broke out in a sweat. He couldn’t think. He wiped the back of his neck with his hand and looked at Anna.

“You gave her my name but you didn’t bother telling me I’m a father?”

“I—I was going to.”

“When? Anna, she’s four years old! When were you planning to tell me? After something terrible happened to her out in this...this place? Or maybe you were planning to leave it up to her. Give her a name to go on and let her hunt me down in a decade or so. Nice, Anna. Really nice.”

“No! That’s not what I was planning.”

Jack waited for her alternate explanation, but none came. With palms still pressed against the steering wheel, she stretched her fingers before dropping her hands into her lap.

“She’s not in any more danger at camp than a kid living on a farm or some crime-ridden city back home. She’s watched, loved, privately preschooled and learning hands-on. Would you rather she be glued to a television or some handheld electronic device or dropped off at day care every day?”

“That’s not the point. At least she’d know who her father was. That she has one.” Jack saw Anna’s eyes dim. Unbelievable. “She doesn’t know. Does she?”

Anna shook her head, then dropped it against the steering wheel. Jack got out of the Jeep and paced. He was a father. Had been all those hours he’d spent behind a microscope or sterile hood, studying organisms so small no one cared about them unless they caused illness or death...and all along, there was a tiny life across the world, in the middle of nowhere, learning to speak, walk and... He scrubbed his face with his hands, unable to think of everything he’d missed. Unable to comprehend the magnitude of what had been dropped on him. Taken from him.

A trumpeting filled the air, followed by a throaty burr. From their vantage point he could see a herd of elephants ushering their calves along the edge of the creek bed. Family units.

“She hasn’t even asked? Wondered?”

Anna climbed out of the Jeep and walked up to him. A few seconds passed as they both watched the herd.

“I don’t think it’s occurred to her to ask yet,” she finally said.

“All children ask questions. I know.” He’d asked many as a child, but most had never been answered. Not in time, at least.

“She’s not around a lot of children. Most children’s books these days depict varied families. Her playmate, Haki, the little boy you saw, doesn’t have a father. His mother, Niara, is my best friend, like a sister to me. She’s a teacher and aunt to Pippa. We met in the doctor’s waiting room during my first pregnancy checkup. She was there for a follow-up with the cutest little newborn in tow, and I was so...” Anna looked away without finishing. She was rambling.

Was she refusing to admit she’d been scared? Jack recalled his sister’s nerves and moods, but she had had her family around. She hadn’t been alone, even when her husband was out of the country. Anna had been. But whose fault was that?

“You know, even with elephants, it’s usually the mothers who surround and care for the young. The bulls do their thing and they’re off,” she said.

“Don’t you dare project on me, Anna. That’s not a fair comparison. I wasn’t given the chance.”

“I wasn’t comparing. I was just trying to answer your question as to why she hasn’t asked about you. Making you understand it’s not personal.”

Wow. Not personal. Jack didn’t respond. He couldn’t get any words past the pressure building in his throat and ears. History repeats itself. Oh, he’d heard the expression, all right. But he’d been determined not to fall into the pattern. He’d vowed never be like his biological parents. They hadn’t wanted him in the picture, and he’d sworn to himself long ago that he’d never abandon a child of his.

“Look, Jack. I’m sorry. I am. But I need time to talk to her. I don’t want to confuse her, and your being here for a couple of days is not a lot of time. Maybe you could come back and—”

“Hold on a minute.” Jack stepped dangerously close to Anna. “Forget a few days. Do you seriously think I’d leave my daughter behind in a place like this?”

Anna had faced just about every dangerous wild animal in Kenya at one point or another, but she’d never been as terrified as now. Facing Jack and hearing those words. This was exactly what she’d been afraid of, what she had known would happen if he found out about her.

He couldn’t take Pippa. No. Way.

“Jack. Don’t talk like that. You don’t take a baby from its mother. You can’t,” she said. Her hands felt numb and she flexed her fingers.

“I’m not leaving her here. My name is on that birth certificate. I have rights.”

“The right to what? Uproot her? Scare her? Take her from the only family she’s ever known? You want to take her screaming and kicking, Jack? Is that what your father-daughter bonding experience is going to be about?”

Jack climbed back into the Jeep. “Let’s go,” he said.

“I’m not going anywhere until you agree not to do anything crazy,” Anna said, hands squeezing her hips. “You don’t even have copies of paperwork to prove she’s yours. No one will let you board a plane with her. Besides, I’d get everyone I know to stop you. The Masai have great aim,” she added, for good measure. Jack lowered his chin and raised a brow.

“Stop with the threats, Anna, and get in. I’m smart enough to do things right,” he said. She didn’t miss the dig. “We can discuss the best way to go about fixing this, but you can bet I’ll be in contact with the American embassy.”

Anna swatted an insect away from her cheek. “I, um, never filled out her born-abroad citizenship paperwork. Not yet,” she said.

“Why not?”

“It required...”

“My signature, as well.” Jack angled himself in the passenger seat so he was facing her. “You surprise me, Honest Anna.” Jack’s reminder of his nickname for her, a twist on Honest Abe, stung.

Anna’s radio static picked up, her name barely coming through, but nevertheless saving her from responding to Jack. She pressed a button on the unit hanging from her belt.

“Dr. Bekker here.”

“Dr. Bekker. You should come to the clinic. We lost one.”

We lost one. No.

“On my way.”

She pocketed the radio and bolted into the driver’s seat, ignoring Jack. She couldn’t handle him right now, and it wasn’t as if he could get himself out of Busara without her knowledge.

We lost one. They had several new orphans, Bakhari being one of them. The entire camp mourned when any baby was lost, in spite of their efforts. Jack, having overheard the radio message, had the sense to keep his mouth shut on the way back. She didn’t know whether it was out of sympathy or anger. Either way, she was grateful for it.

She pulled up near the clinic within minutes, a tiny part of her relieved to see Bakhari playing gently, given his stitches, with one of the keepers, Niara and the kids. A deeper part knew who she’d lost. The youngest calf, Ito, who hadn’t been drinking well. She left Jack behind and made her way to the enclosure where several of her crew had gathered. The keepers stood in silent respect for Ito, who lay motionless. Kamau rose from his crouched position over the little elephant.

“He’s gone, Anna. I’m sorry. Too young and refusing to eat.” Kamau put a hand on her shoulder as he walked out. She knew he’d tried. He was the best vet around, in her opinion, but sometimes a calf couldn’t handle the sadness of not knowing where its mother was, or worse, the trauma of witnessing what had happened to her. Ito had been a witness.

Anna took Kamau’s spot near the calf and ran her hand along his side, then down his trunk. She heard everyone leave. They’d learned over the years that she needed a few minutes alone whenever a little one was lost. This time, it seemed even harder. The entire day had been too much to handle. Her emotions were already raw. You don’t take a baby from its mother. She bent over and laid her cheek against Ito’s silent chest and let one, only one, sob escape. She had to harden herself. For facing Jack and for holding tight to Pippa. No way would Anna let her daughter grow up the way she had. No way would she make the mistake her mother had made.

* * *

JACK STEPPED AWAY from the pen as quietly as he could when he realized Anna was crying. For all the expanse of nature surrounding them, privacy, he realized, wasn’t something she got too much of at camp. And after their argument, he was certain his presence would only make her feel worse. Not that he should care, considering what she’d done to him, but seeing her like that... He couldn’t handle it.

He walked back to his tent and found Kamau cleaning his face and neck with a damp cloth.

“What happened?” Jack asked.

The vet hung the cloth on a nail and reached for a dry towel.

“Wouldn’t eat. Not uncommon with young orphans, but we’ve learned a lot from experiences at other orphanages on reserves, so we have a good success rate. Sometimes we find them injured, like the other calf, Bakhari. His ankle was caught in a snare. We were lucky with him. But sometimes they’re so despondent over separation or loss of their loved ones. Depression. That one kills. Elephants are more humanlike than most people know. They’re very emotional and family-oriented animals. They mourn, protect, play. Ito lost his mother.”

Jack simply nodded. There wasn’t anything to say. He’d just arrived, and yet the death had had an impact on him, too. Death, especially the sight of it, gouged him deep. Kamau was right. The image of a dead parent wasn’t easily forgotten by a child. Even in adulthood.

“I hate to say it, but around here, it’s something one has to get used to,” Kamau said. “Especially if you’re planning to go out in the field with me.”

“I can handle it,” Jack said.

He turned and went back outside, hoping to catch the kids still playing, but they were gone. He wanted to see Pippa close up. Needed to. Those eyes and curls. Her adorable nose was Anna’s, but everything else resembled the pictures his parents had taken of him shortly after his adoption, even if he’d been older than Pippa at the time. He needed her to know who he was. That he was here and he’d never leave her.

His parents would want to meet her. They’d be overjoyed to find out they had another grandchild. Knowing them, they’d be more forgiving of Anna than he could ever be.

What Kamau had said about the elephants gnawed at him, but this wasn’t the same as taking a baby from its mother. Pippa was old enough to understand that her mom could visit. That Mommy was working...that Daddy was, too. Okay. So he still had things to figure out. He couldn’t take her to his lab, but he made enough now to be able to afford help. His sister didn’t live too far from him, and she had kids. She’d be there for him. That wouldn’t be so different than what Anna was doing, except Pippa would have access to great schools, a yard with swing sets, lots of friends her age, cousins and grandparents. And there wouldn’t be elephants, lions, rhinos or black mambas roaming through her backyard.

He remembered Anna’s plea, but couldn’t get over the change in her. The Anna he’d known was crouched in that pen over that baby. The one who had kept his child from him wasn’t the same person.

He headed for the tent the kids and Anna’s friend had come out of earlier. Kamau had mentioned it was like a mess hall. Maybe they were there. He’d no sooner picked up his stride when something hit him on the head. Hard. He crouched with one hand on the point of pain and the other held up like a shield.

“What the—?”

He looked up in time to see a one-legged monkey swinging away. Screeches and cackles filled the air and sounded much the same as human laughter.

Of all the insane things. The heat really was getting to him.

“Hey, Jack. Come and I’ll show you around. Bring any supplies you need,” Kamau said, as he headed to the clinic entrance. Guess that meant the coast was clear.

“Be right there,” Jack said, more interested in finding Pippa but realizing he was at a disadvantage around here. He’d get further by being reasonable.

Jack went inside, grabbed his case and carried it over. He needed to figure out how he’d get samples on dry ice back to his colleague in Nairobi within a few days, if he was extending his stay. He entered the clinic and set his stuff down on the counter where Kamau indicated a free space.

“You didn’t mention it was Dr. Harper,” Kamau said, filling a syringe. “Dr. Miller just sent another email to see if you’d made it in one piece. It said to advise you to try and remain that way.” Kamau chuckled. “Is he talking about the dangerous wildlife or our Dr. Bekker?”

Jack smiled but didn’t take the bait. “By the way, it’s a PhD, just so you know not to throw any surgery or clinic cases my way,” Jack said, changing the subject.

“In what?” Kamau asked.

“Genetics. Specifically, genetic immunity to pathogens in wildlife species. I’m working with a lab collecting genetic samples for a sort of library of endangered species, but also for studies on resistance.”

“Ah. With Dr. Alwanga, by any chance? I’ve read his journal articles.”

“The one and only.”

“Excellent. Let me know if you need anything. I have to head out on rounds—to make sure I’m not needed in the field and to pick up some of the recording devices we’ve set out for Anna south of camp. You can come along tomorrow, if you’d like, when you have your things together.”

Jack noticed a small room off the one where they stood. It looked as if it contained a lot of recording gadgets and a computer.

“Do you have an inventory of camp needs for me to go through while you’re gone?”

“It’s with Anna.”

Jack glanced out the tiny window toward the pen where Ito had been. Kamau seemed to catch that Jack was wondering if she’d be too upset to work.

“Anna is checking on some recording equipment on the north side of camp. She’ll be back soon.” He paused, as if calculating his next words. “Our Anna, she’s resilient. Stubborn, too, but strong and hardworking. She’ll have that list down to bare bones and top it off with more research data than Dr. Miller could dream of.”

“And she’ll need to work in peace, without anyone invading her space,” Anna said, standing in the doorway and looking pointedly at Jack and his supplies on the counter.

Invading her space. Invading her life.

“Anna. Perfect timing. I was just telling Dr. Harper that you’d be able to show him our inventory and requirements,” Kamau said, before excusing himself.

“Dr. Harper, is it?” Anna cocked her head. “Five years. I should have realized you’d have finished by now. You hadn’t completed your master’s yet.... How long have you had your doctorate?”

Jack folded his arms and leaned back against the counter. “About two years.”

“So what’s your connection to Dr. Miller?”

“Joint grant. Collaboration on a big study.”

“Oh.” Anna frowned and walked into the room. “But he sent you here to check on us? Your study, I’m sure, has nothing to do with mine.”

Jack scratched at his stubble, realizing for the first time that he wasn’t looking his best. The disheveled wild man who intended to take her daughter. His daughter. Dr. Miller had warned him not to make waves. How was he supposed to tell her that her research funding was in jeopardy?

“Not directly, maybe. Same department, though, and Miller is concerned about the trust money donated specifically to your elephant research running out.”

“Running out? Why? We’ve always had consistent donors.”

Jack sighed. He couldn’t lie when that was the very thing she’d done to him. Omission was the same as lying.

“Miller’s trying to raise more funds for this new research, and he’s reached out to the same people who’ve donated before. However, many have been splitting their donations between causes.”

“You’re taking my funding.”

Her tone made Jack glance back at the snake in the jar, just to make sure it hadn’t escaped. On purpose.

“It wasn’t a question, Jack.”

“I’m not taking your funds. Miller’s the department head, not me, and we don’t dictate where contributors apply their donations. But it’s the way things are panning out, and he simply wants to make sure all his projects are working efficiently.”

“Spoken like a politically correct administrator. Are you researching, Jack, or getting sucked into admin? You know as well as I do what that means. If the grant’s not enough and Miller wants to put more effort and energy into raising funds for your joint project, he will. He’s been planning this awhile now, hasn’t he? How could a respected mentor shut down his old student’s—and I thought friend’s—research project, especially if it would look bad to animal advocates and behaviorists? But if those funds slowly dwindled, or got redirected, the fault wouldn’t be directly his. Or better yet, he sends you to—what? Report back on money misuse so I can get scapegoated?”

“Anna, no one is trying to make you a scapegoat. Dr. Miller thinks highly of you, and I’ve heard him brag about your findings on pachyderm family structure and the impact natural disasters and poaching have had on interherd breeding. Those findings have been important to our understanding of genetic resistance and mutations. But you’re not just doing research.” Jack waved a hand toward the orphanage area.

Anna’s eyes widened. “You can’t mean putting a stop to raising orphans. Miller approved that and understood. There aren’t that many, and keeping them gives us an opportunity to listen to them up close, get samples and tag, hear them communicating with each other. And when they’re old enough to be moved to one of the transitional reservation areas, we let them go, knowing they’ll eventually find a new herd. But they need us first.”

Like an adoptive family. They were essentially in foster care. Jack wondered if Anna was aware of the analogy, but her attention seemed fully focused on her elephants.

“And how much staff does raising these orphans require?”

“Staff? We’re at a minimum, and the keepers don’t even have private tents. They sleep on cots next to their assigned calf and rotate daily, so that no baby becomes too attached to one human. It prevents separation anxiety when they leave us, or if one of us isn’t around. We’re looking at necessity.”

“He’s looking at numbers, Anna. Expenses are the bottom line, and the number of calves has grown. He just wants to verify the reasons and the cost involved.”

“Verify?”

Bad word choice. Jack kept a straight face.

“Am I being accused of lying?” Anna asked. The corners of her full mouth sank a mere fraction of a second after she asked the question. Jack knew she’d realized the absurdity of her question. After all, she’d been lying to him. Defend that. He didn’t respond.

“Pippa has nothing to do with this. Miller knew I’d have a child with me at camp. And no, he doesn’t know you’re the father. At least, I’ve never told him,” she added before Jack could ask. “I pay all non-research-related expenses out of pocket. Her care, and Niara and Haki’s. Barely, but I do. I can prove it, too. So don’t even try to turn this on me, Jack. You’re here for one reason only. To make your career better, at the expense of mine. To take away everything that matters to me.”

CHAPTER THREE

ANNA MARCHED OUT of the clinic and winced at the stab of bright sunlight. She couldn’t look at him anymore. Couldn’t digest what he’d just revealed. He had the upper hand. If he wanted revenge for her not telling him about Pippa, all he had to do was pass a negative report on to Miller and whoever else was on the board overseeing funds. Jack could end everything she’d worked so hard to protect and preserve. Everything she’d sacrificed for.

“Wait a minute, Anna,” he said, following her out of the clinic tent. She kept walking.

“I’ll be back to show you what you came for. I need to go see the kids first.”

“I’m coming with you,” Jack said. This time Anna did turn around.

“No. You’re not.” She held up a hand to stop him from arguing. “Jack, I’m not as evil as you think I am. You’ll see her. We’ll both talk to her. Later. After she’s had her nap.”

“I think this trumps naptime.”

“Have you ever been around a four-year-old who’s missed naptime?” she asked.

“No, but—”

“Think rabid monkey,” she said, leaving Jack to contemplate how little he knew about parenting, and what he was getting himself into.

* * *

BY THE TIME Anna reached the quarters where she, Niara and the kids stayed, Niara had read the last sentence of their favorite book about a dancing hippo and his friends. Pippa and Haki were sound asleep on their cots. Niara set the book down and Anna helped her draw mosquito netting around them. Given the risk of malaria, everyone at camp took preventative meds and sprayed, but screens and netting helped, too. Especially with the kids. It was nothing more than routine for all of them, but it struck her as something that would stand out to Jack. Anna knew travel protocol and was pretty sure Jack had been given a prescription to take, just in case. But he hadn’t added it to his list of reasons why Pippa shouldn’t be here.

Not yet.

Give him a few hours, and Jack would have a trusty list brimming with more obvious camp dangers. Anna figured she could save some legal agony by making him a counterlist of dangers in the average American suburb, or even in their countryside. Getting kidnapped, bullied, or hit by a car, contracting bird flu, and plenty of others she could throw at him. She wouldn’t mention drugs, though. She wouldn’t stoop that low, but she’d prove how ignorant he was being. Prove Pippa didn’t need saving. Prove they’d only end up disrupting his career path, and he wouldn’t realize it until it was too late.

She bent down, moved the netting aside, kissed Pippa’s marshmallow-soft cheek and put the netting back.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Niara asked, keeping her voice to a whisper.

Anna pulled a wooden stool next to hers. “It’s him.” She sighed.

A moment passed in silence as they watched the children sleep.

“Oh, honey. All these years and you told me Pippa’s father didn’t care. That doesn’t look like a man who doesn’t care. What gives? Why have you been hiding?” Niara asked.

“Who says I’ve been hiding?”

Niara threw her head back in disbelief before squaring her shoulders. “Not hiding? Come on, Anna. You’ve never once gone back to the States. You haven’t even visited your parents, and calling your mother isn’t the same. You’re not the first person whose parents divorced. To close yourself off for this long? It’s crazy. I just don’t understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand. This is my work. Everything and everyone that matters to me is here.”

Anna hung her head. Niara had been so good to her and they’d shared so much. Niara knew that as a teenager Anna had lost a baby brother, but she didn’t know what it had done to her mother...to her family. Some things were too personal to share with anyone.

Niara laid a hand on Anna’s back and rubbed gently, like Anna did to Pippa when she needed soothing after a bad dream or a scraped knee. Niara was right, though, and at this point, Anna needed an ally. Someone who loved Pippa and would do anything to protect her.

“My parents didn’t just divorce, Niara. They never married out of love to begin with. The whole time they had been lying. Pretending.”

“I don’t understand. Where’s the lie? Nobody’s life is perfect, but no matter what, it’s a parent’s job—their hope—to guide their children to a better one. All parents use experience to teach their children what they think is best.”

“Is it best to not be wanted?”

Niara frowned.

“Niara, my father never gave me the time of day. Always busy with the politics of work. His career came first—at every recital, birthday, parent night at school...even my graduations. Turns out it wasn’t just because he was busy. It was because he never wanted me to begin with. I was a burden. In his eyes, the only thing I came first in was being conceived before marriage. All those talks about waiting? My parents didn’t wait. My mom got pregnant and my dad married her out of pure obligation. A noble sense of duty that resulted in a bitter marriage, and left me with a bitter dad. Do you have any idea how old it gets, making up answers for ‘Where’s your dad?’ at school functions? Oh, the worst was when I got asked if he was overseas, serving our country, and I had to say no. He didn’t even have an honorable reason to be gone. He just didn’t want me.”

“I’m so sorry, Anna. People do make mistakes. That doesn’t mean they didn’t love you and truly want your life to be different than theirs.”

“My mother loves me. I don’t doubt that. But seeing what she went through is why I couldn’t tell Jack.” And loving my mom is why I couldn’t tell her, either.

“You made a choice staying in Kenya, but you also chose to keep your child from her father. She has one. You don’t know how many nights I wish it was that way with Haki.”

Anna reached over and gripped Niara’s hand. How could she be so thoughtless? Of course Niara would see her as taking things for granted.

“You don’t understand. Jack’s just like my dad,” Anna said. “So focused on his career, yet at the same time shortsighted about life. They do what they think is right in the moment, their duty, but don’t look at what it’ll mean later on. They don’t see anyone ending up the victim of their regrets.”

“Anna, I chose not to live my life as a victim, even if I was one. You don’t have to think of yourself that way.”

“I don’t!” she said, glancing at the kids to make sure her voice hadn’t woken them. “Okay. I’ll admit that I did before I came here. The day my mom told me about the divorce was the same day I graduated from veterinary school. I was due to fly to Kenya shortly after. She’d come down for the ceremony, but my dad didn’t make it. Big surprise. That whole day was like being tossed between Mount Kilimanjaro’s peak and the Serengeti’s heat. Everything I’d ever known had been turned upside down.”

Everything. Such as believing, as a young child, that Daddy really did need to work all the time, then noticing, as a teen, that he didn’t dote on her mom the way she’d seen her friends’ parents act. After her brother’s death sucked her mom into deep depression, he’d abandoned them emotionally, and Anna had thought he couldn’t cope, either. But what she hadn’t known, until graduation day, was that he’d been stuck with her. She’d ruined his life, down to the day her brother died.

“I was devastated. I felt more than sorry for myself, but not anymore. In any case, Jack and I had been best friends since middle school. I knew I could turn to him.”

Niara caught the implication. “So you’re saying he’s the father for sure?”

“Anyone else would be a physical impossibility. We were both...inexperienced. One time, Niara. My only time. My biggest, most rebellious mistake.”

Niara looked at the children but didn’t speak.

“Oh,” Anna said. “She’s not a mistake. And Haki isn’t, either. You know how much I love them both. They’re the only good, pure thing that has come out of what we’ve both been through.”

“I know that, Anna, but I think your biggest mistake was not telling her father.”

“You’re wrong, Niara. I’ve been protecting both of them. Jack from himself and Pippa from growing up the way I did. There’s no way I’ll let her go through what I went through. And why should I have to endure the life my mom did? Dad never loved her.” Not in sickness or in health. Anna covered her face with her hands, then pushed her hair back. Niara had always been there for her, and here she was snapping at her. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“No. I am, but you have to understand. Men like my dad and Jack don’t know how to love. Career men with a conscience. Guilt and duty...but not love. Jack thinks he wants Pippa, but I know it’s only because he’s doing what he thinks he has to do.” He tried that on me before.

“You think he feels obligated?” Niara said.

“Yes. I know he does.” And not for the first time.

Anna’s nose tingled and she rubbed it with the back of her hand, unwilling to break down. The granule of hope that she’d latched on to for five years had dissolved, leaving her feeling deflated, just as when Pippa had been drawn from her belly. Only this time, Jack threatened to take the only person she was left with to cherish and fill the void. Pippa’s love was the only love that was real for Anna, and the only love she could trust.

“I don’t have time for self-pity anymore. Not as a mother. He wants to meet Pippa later.”

“Of course,” Niara said.

“He wants to take her, Niara. I can’t let that happen.”

Niara rubbed her fingertips against her mouth before responding. “No fears, okay? It’ll all work out.”

“I need to get back,” Anna said, standing up and scooting the stool out of the way. She gave Niara a hug. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Always nice to hear.” Her friend chuckled. “But you’re even better, and stronger than you think. You’ll be fine, Anna.”

* * *

JACK SEALED THE tissue sample and began labeling it as per Dr. Alwanga’s protocol. Although it wasn’t how he spent most of his research time, Jack had received samples before. Straight to the lab for analysis. Collected by someone else. He hoped that the keeper who’d taken him to the calf had dismissed the sweat on his face as a by-product of heat. Maybe it was in part because he’d witnessed Anna mourning the baby elephant. It wasn’t just a calf or a sample to her.

He sensed her the second she walked in, turning just in time to catch her looking wide-eyed at the label before she masked her expression.

“Not wasting time, are you?” she said, walking past him.

“I’m sorry, Anna. I had to. Besides, the sample will let us make sure infection wasn’t a factor, and it’ll help confirm a genetic connection to poaching victims.”

“I know you have a job to do, Jack. No need for apologies. I’m a doctor, remember? I can do autopsies in my sleep. I investigate every death here thoroughly. I don’t rely on assumptions.”

“I don’t doubt that. I just thought that since—”

“Well, don’t think,” she said. She drew a file from a lower cabinet and plopped it next to him. He flipped open the cover. Their inventory and expenses. “I keep a printed list, just in case. And before you go off on the cost of paper, it’s only because power and internet can be unreliable here and the computer is rather old. I do send data and records to Miller, but I don’t want to risk losing any of it, so I keep a hard copy, as well.”

“How’s the generator working?” Dr. Miller had given him the rundown on the camp’s setup.

Anna smiled and the memories of when she used to beam at him hit Jack hard. This one came with a shake of her head.

“Wow. You really are investigating. Guess that’s what you’re good at. The generator works fine. Most of the time. Again, nothing comes with a one hundred percent guarantee, does it?”

He tore off his sterile gloves and scrubbed at his jaw. “Guess not, Anna.”

There certainly hadn’t been any guarantee that she’d come back from her postgraduate internship. Only he hadn’t realized that at the time. Not until the brief email she’d sent telling him that she’d made plans to stay in Kenya for at least another year or two. A short email. No call. No sound of her voice so he could decipher the true reasons behind her words. To figure out whether he’d permanently destroyed their friendship. A part of him had wondered if she’d met someone else.

She’d always been a romantic. She’d gone on and on in anticipation of her trip to Africa, and how she felt like Elsa Martinelli in Hatari!. He’d wondered who, if anyone, had become her John Wayne. Somehow, their roles seemed reversed. Besides, Jack had given up thinking that he’d ever be enough for her.

He knew when to let go. When to stop caring. Until now. Now she had a little girl with her. His little girl. He could forgive Anna for not wanting him; that was her right. But not for this. Not for keeping Pippa from him.

He slapped the folder shut on the papers he was pretending to read.

“So, when do I get to spend time with my daughter?” My daughter. The words sounded so foreign to him.

“I was thinking after dinner. Everyone at camp eats the meal together. You’ll see her before then, of course, but after that you, Pippa and I can go for a walk or ride...and we can talk to her.”

“What time is dinner?”

Anna actually laughed. And he loved it, as much as the mischievous way she looked at him. Boy, was he in trouble.

“It’s a small place, Jack. Trust me, you’ll know when dinner is. Put an actual time on it and it’ll get jinxed into being several hours late.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s how time works here. Stick around long enough and you’ll see what I mean.” Anna’s face fell as soon as the words left her mouth. He’d stick around long enough, all right.

Long enough to get the necessary paperwork cleared so that he could take Pippa home.

CHAPTER FOUR

ANNA COULDN’T EAT. Not with the way her belly tightened every time Jack glanced at her and Pippa. Pippa wasn’t doing any better at finishing her food. Anna tried every trick, conscious of him watching, but Pippa was too busy playing peekaboo with the stranger. She’d duck her face under the table, then slowly peer over the top at him. Every other time, he’d wink and Pippa would giggle. And every giggle would ripple through Anna like a wave that would drag her little girl farther and farther out to sea. Closer and closer to America...and Jack.

Haki watched their interaction intently. “Stop it, Pippa,” he said, finally.

“Why should I?”

The little boy came around Anna and whispered into Pippa’s ear, then ran back to his spot on the bench. Pippa frowned.

“Haki said I’m talking to stwangers, Mama.” Haki blushed and dropped his head into his hands. So much for secrets. “I’m not. You let him eat with us so he’s not a stwanger. Right?”

“He is,” Haki mumbled.

“He’s not and I didn’t say any words.” Pippa puffed her cheeks at him, convinced she’d won the argument. Jack raised a brow, waiting for Anna’s reply.

“Well, Dr. Harper is a stranger to both of you because you haven’t actually met him before, but he’s really a friend. He’s going to be here a couple of days for work, so don’t get in his way, but if he’s free, it’s okay to talk to him.”

Haki dug into his food without a word. Pippa lit up.

“Hi,” she said to Jack.

“Hi there.” He turned away from a conversation on border patrols that several of the keepers were having with Kamau, and propped his elbows on the table, giving Pippa his full attention. “It doesn’t look like you’ve eaten much there.”

She shrugged.

“I bet if you listened to your mom and ate your food, she might let you go for a ride before the sun goes down.”

“Is that true, Mama?”

“I suppose so,” Anna said. Pippa put a spoonful in her mouth. All mothers loved seeing their kids eat, but the fact that Jack had accomplished, in one sentence, what she’d been trying to do for the past half hour was a bit annoying. “Just finish quickly so you can wash up and get your jammies on before we go.” Jammies were nothing but a clean T-shirt and shorts around here.

When Pippa was a colicky baby, Anna used to get one of the men to drive them slowly around camp, close enough for safety during the night. It was the only way she’d fall asleep and it still worked whenever she wasn’t feeling well. Anna wasn’t sure if their talk with her would rev her up for the night or give her plenty to dream about. Jammies were a safe bet either way, and making her get ready for bed before leaving bought Anna a little more time. If only minutes.

Minutes that made “Africa time” seem like cheetah speed.

After washing up, Niara walked the children out to the Jeep, where Jack waited for Anna and Pippa. Anna needed a few minutes to freshen up. She looked in the small mirror hanging by a nail near her bed, and cringed. Bad enough she looked like someone who’d been hacking through thickets all day, she didn’t even want to imagine what she smelled like after working with the elephants. But there wasn’t time for a bath and it didn’t matter. This wasn’t a date. It was the stark opposite. The beginning of the end. She let her hair down, then quickly decided it looked too obvious. She might leave it down for the wedding she’d be attending in a few days, but not for Jack. She pulled it back into a ponytail and started out, only to be intercepted by Haki. For such a composed little boy, he looked as if a dam was about to break.

“Hey, Haki. What’s up?” she asked, kneeling down.

“Auntie Anna, is he taking her away forever?”

“What? Oh, Dr. Harper? Gosh, what would make you think that?”

“I heard you and Mama talking during naptime. If he’s her father, he’ll take her away. Won’t he?”

He’d overheard? Anna closed her eyes. Jack wanted to take Pippa away, but not tonight. Not ever, if Anna could help it. That’s all she could give right now.

“No, Haki. We’re just going for a ride and I’ll be there the whole time. I promise when you wake up you’ll find Pippa in her bed. Just like always. Okay?”

Haki swiped away one betraying tear and nodded.

“Walk me out?”

He nodded again and took her hand. Anna held it tightly, her heart breaking for him. For all their battles of wits, Anna knew the two children were close. But this was the first time she realized just how much Pippa’s friendship meant to the little boy who was so much like a son to her.

Haki let go of Anna’s hand and wrapped his arms around his mom when they got to the Jeep. Niara looked inquisitively at Anna, but Anna shook her head and climbed into the driver’s seat. Seeing Jack with Pippa in his lap, his arm wrapped securely around her, was surreal. The three of them. Together. Anna started the ignition. This wasn’t a family outing. At least not the way she’d once imagined it.

She drove about a quarter of a mile to a grove of trees. Thankfully, Pippa monopolized the conversation the entire way there. She listed all the local animals she could think of for Jack, even the most dangerous ones sounding adorable with the way her r’s came out as w’s. Even Anna couldn’t stop from smiling when Jack mimicked Pippa and said, “Zeebwas, huh? I wanna see one of those!” Jack being silly? She knew his sister had a kid, but she’d never pictured him as the shed-the-lab-coat-and-play kind of guy. Anna turned off the ignition.

“Come here, sweetie,” she said, pulling Pippa into her lap and hugging her tightly. She looked at Jack before continuing. He stared back at her expectantly.

This was it.

The moment she’d both longed for and dreaded. Longed for during moments of insane exhaustion, when sleepless nights with an infant made her wonder if there was something to marrying for the sake of practicality. For having someone to lean on, even if it wasn’t for love. But that’s all it was. Insanity. Because she’d come this far without relying on him. And she knew he didn’t love her. Not beyond friendship, and probably not even that anymore, after what she’d done.

Anna kissed the top of Pippa’s head now, breathing in that indefinable child scent, and steeled herself for what was to come. “Pippa, you know how I told you Dr. Harper is a friend?”

“Uh-huh.”

Anna turned Pippa to face her and gently fiddled with a springy curl at her temple.

“He’s more than that to you. He’s your baba, sweetie, although he’ll probably want you calling him Daddy,” Anna said, realizing Jack wouldn’t be accustomed to the local term.

He reached over and tugged on one of Pippa’s bouncy curls. “You can call me whatever you like, Pippa. I’m just really happy to be here with you.”

Pippa stared at him and sank back into Anna’s arms. Her thumb slipped between her teeth. It had taken forever to get her to break that habit. If she regressed...

“My baba...like Kahni?” she said, then slipped her thumb back in her mouth.

“Who’s Kahni?” Jack asked.

“One of the elephant bulls we observe,” Anna said, closing her eyes apologetically. She turned to Pippa. “Like Kahni, only Jack’s your baba. And he walks on two feet,” Anna said. As expected, Pippa giggled and relaxed.

“I know an animal with twenty feet,” Pippa said. “No, it has twenty hundwed million feet and thwee eyes. It’s like a monster.”

“Wow. And I’d love to hear about all the things you like to do, your favorite games and books and whatever you want to talk about,” Jack said, propping his forearms on his knees so they were face-to-face.

“Are you gonna live with us?” Pippa asked, her curls barely masking the wrinkling of her forehead. She looked so much like Jack it hurt.

“Um. No, but we’ll figure all that out later,” Jack said, glancing at Anna.

“Are you gonna mawee my mama?”

Anna froze. If he so much as implied that it was an option, it would be final proof that he was just like her dad. It’d prove that the last proposal had truly been for all the wrong reasons and that Jack was after only one thing now—and it wasn’t her. But if he didn’t want marriage... Anna’s chest twinged. If he didn’t want marriage, it would prove that any inkling of hope she’d ever had about being wrong, about happy-ever-afters really existing, about ever having Jack’s forgiveness and friendship again, would be gone for good. And she wasn’t sure which response would make her feel worse.

Jack straightened back in his seat and looked at Anna, seconds too long, then back at Pippa. “No, squirt. We won’t be getting married.”

And there she had it. Closure.

* * *

JACK SHIFTED ON HIS COT, adjusting the inflatable neck roll he’d brought along against the curve of his lower spine. His cot backed up against a post, his only support as he sat propped up with the files Anna had relinquished. He reclipped his portable, mini LED light so that it wouldn’t wake Kamau. Having never left the States, Jack had only heard of jet lag. He rubbed at his eyes and tried to reassure himself that the mosquito buzzing in frustration near his head couldn’t get past the netting. Or maybe it was his brain buzzing at the numbers and lists in front of him.

Anna and Kamau had indeed kept meticulous records. Meticulous to a point. Something didn’t add up. Miller had never mentioned that kids lived at the camp. He hadn’t specified how many people were allowed to share in the food and essential expenses. Hard to truthfully keep track of how some supplies were used. It wasn’t as if Anna could waste time measuring out how much food, ointment, water or bug spray each individual used. She said she paid for Niara and the kids, but it wasn’t like they paid rent for the camp’s meager lodgings and facilities. He was being a horse’s rear and he knew it, but funds were funds. This new research collaboration between Miller, the lab in Nairobi and himself was huge. It would solidify Jack’s name and reputation in the scientific community.

Anna’s research and her work to provide medical care to the orphaned elephants was significant. He believed that. But in his book, related or not, behavioral studies didn’t compare to genetics and immunology. They were the root of everything. The tough stuff. The kind of research that would have his career set and earn him...respect. Respect of his colleagues and of his family. It’d earn him more lecture engagements, and that meant more money.

He shuffled through the stack, taking a cursory note of all the logs he’d flagged in red. He’d have to send Miller an email, if they got service, otherwise it would have to wait until he got home. A satellite call was out of the question, not only because of the time difference, but due to lack of privacy. He didn’t need Anna standing by on that one.

Guilt scratched at his chest like a grain of sand in the eye. Miller would possibly shut down funding to Anna’s project, forcing her to abandon her work or, at a minimum, merge into one of the more established Kenyan wildlife parks and reserves projects. Jack wasn’t well-versed in foreign paperwork, but if she lost her research funds, it could even mean being forced back to the States—a situation that would facilitate getting Pippa back there, as well. Anna would hate him, more than she already did, but at least Pippa would have both parents nearby.

In any case, Jack had more important things to worry about than Anna’s work. Priorities were priorities. Ensuring funds for his own project would lead to career success, and career success meant being able to provide his daughter with the kind of life she deserved. He had a responsibility to her. Care and education. A father who’d never abandon her. A father who would make every choice in life, from here on out, based on what was best for his child.

Unlike his selfish biological parents.

As far as he was concerned, and as much as he could see that Anna loved Pippa, Anna was being selfish. Keeping her pregnancy a secret and forcing Pippa to grown up in the wild was selfish. Purely selfish. A kid needed more than just one other child to play with. Pippa needed socialization, even if she wasn’t quite school-aged yet. It mattered developmentally, didn’t it? For all her observations on elephant family units, shouldn’t Anna know that?

It had mattered for Jack. His adoptive family had gone out of their way for him. Given him a life. It was why he’d worked so hard to prove that the scared nine-year-old they’d adopted, after he’d been pulled from the dangerous, drug-infested neighborhood where his parents had overdosed, had been worth all their troubles. All the teen agony they’d put up with.

Jack didn’t want Pippa growing up feeling confused or insecure. He didn’t want her to suffer the hunger and cold he’d felt because his drug addict parents had twisted priorities, and their neighbors had turned their faces. Not their problem. Well, his daughter was his responsibility. She was going to have him around. He was going to give her the kind of life his real parents, his adoptive parents, had given him.

* * *

JACK’S LIDS STARTED to droop down just as a hint of dawn turned the blackness outside his tent into shades of pink and gray. He glanced at his watch out of habit and knocked his head back in defeat, wincing when it hit the beam. Of all the things he’d done to prepare for this trip, he hadn’t thought of putting a new battery in his watch. That Murphy guy knew what he was talking about.

Kamau stirred and Jack stacked the files neatly, not wanting him to wake up to all his pen marks. Then Jack rose to use the bathroom, eternally grateful they had running water and soap, along with water purification tablets and filters. That was a must. Not exactly a four-star hotel, but in any case, he planned on beating the line and squeezing in a shave.

* * *

JACK TURNED OFF the satellite phone when nothing but static came through, then tried redialing.

“Take five steps to your right.” Anna’s voice had him turning like a schoolboy caught putting a frog in the teacher’s desk. She had Pippa by the hand and Niara followed with Haki.

“Five steps?”

“To your left, now that you’re facing me. You’ll get better reception. Trust me,” she said, continuing on her way. Niara looked from Anna to Jack, then smiled. A tiny one, but he caught it. Halfway around the world and he couldn’t escape female gossip. Despite himself, he wondered what Anna had told Niara about him. About them.

Trust her? Jack grunted, but then took the recommended five steps. Bingo. He dialed again.

“Dr. Alwanga. Hey. You know the samples I said I’d bring right back?” Jack turned slightly to his right to clear the reception. “No, no. Collecting them isn’t the problem. I won’t be coming back yet, so I’ll need to have someone fly them over. But I have a favor to ask. A couple, actually.”

* * *

ANNA WASHED HER HANDS after finishing her rounds with the orphans. All things considered, it was a great morning. She’d noticed light coming through the guys’ tent on her way out to her acacia tree right before dawn. She figured it was Jack, and took extra care not to let him hear her walk by. The last thing she needed was Jack following her and invading her private time. More than any other morning, she needed it.

Time alone. To think.

None of this was supposed to have happened this way. She’d pictured it every dawn for five years now. He would contact her and declare his love without ever knowing about the pregnancy. Then she’d tell him about Pippa, but only after she knew his feelings were pure. Honest. And he’d be thrilled, not angry. They’d defy her parents’ pathetic example of a marriage—of love—and he’d love Pippa the way Anna had missed out on with her dad. With free will.

But it was too late for that. The last email he’d sent, a month after she’d first arrived in Kenya, was signed with plain old “Jack.” Not “Love, Jack.” Not even “Miss you, Jack.” At this point, she’d never, ever be able to trust that anything between them was real, that it wasn’t obligatory or misguided. All she needed to focus on now was Pippa, the only person she knew loved her unconditionally.

Anna left the clinic and headed for the Jeep. She needed to check the recording boxes. Hopefully, the herd would be within sight and she’d be able to take notes on how things were going with the big mamas and their children.

She was concerned about one “teen” male in particular. She hadn’t seen the bulls nearby in the past week or so, nor had she heard their calls. Teen male elephants were known to get unruly and rebellious without the guidance of older males. Much like human adolescents, they tested boundaries and needed role models, and like humans, they suffered from PTSD. All elephants who’d witnessed poachers in action suffered from post-traumatic stress. It had been documented in studies. The loss of loved ones was hard to recover from.

Anna rubbed her neck. Jack had never recovered, and for all their years of friendship, she wasn’t enough to change that. If he’d never been able to truly open his heart to her, how was he supposed to love Pippa beyond any superficial sense of duty?

Anna stepped on the gas and tried to focus on finding the bulls. If she didn’t pick up any distant rumbles on the recordings, she’d mention it to Kamau. The Kenyan government took poaching seriously, but despite heavy law enforcement by both Kenya Wildlife Services and the Masai community, it had yet to be eradicated. Far from it. For one thing, the fines weren’t high enough. And, unfortunately, southwest Kenya, where most of the elephant herds roamed, bordered on Tanzania, a corridor for poachers and their ivory. Anna bit down on her lower lip. Her bulls had to be okay.

A part of Anna was glad that she didn’t often go out in the field for indefinite hours—an arrangement adopted because of the children, especially during the first year, when Pippa was so young and Anna couldn’t bear even a few hours of separation. She was thankful to Kamau for acting in a mobile vet capacity, but regretted the gruesome scenes she knew he’d witnessed. She’d seen her fair share during her first summer in Kenya, before she’d discovered her pregnancy.

She pulled up near the first recording location and got out of the Jeep. Three more stops for the day, then she’d need to spend several hours cooped up listening, tracking and analyzing. She never slacked, but with Jack here and Miller breaking the trust she had in him, she couldn’t give anyone excuses.

How many times, when she’d encounter a teacher who didn’t seem to like her, had her mother told her that success was the best revenge? Anna had listened and studied harder. She’d finished high school at seventeen and her undergrad studies in three years. But being the youngest had had its downfalls.

Come to think of it, her age was probably why do-gooder Jack had taken it upon himself to befriend her and keep an eye on her. She thought of Haki. Were all guys like that? The bottom line was that no one could argue with an A+. Maybe her parents had been right about some things. Right now, success was her best revenge, and defense, against Jack.

* * *

JACK HADN’T SEEN Anna at breakfast that morning. Although he got to spend time with Pippa and her friend, Haki, the little boy who kept an amusingly watchful eye on him, Jack couldn’t shake the feeling that Anna had skipped breakfast just to avoid him.

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