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"You're very welcome." She let go and explained what she had to do now, to take care of her. The child endured the needle pokes with good grace, and Molly wheeled her into a room down the hall, with a window and a view of theRio Grandeby day. If she had tuberculosis, she would probably be here for a while.
She washed the girl's face and propped her up, then started the IV tube for re hydration and whatever course of drugs the doctor chose once the results were back. The child, obviously exhausted, fell into a doze, and Molly tenderly tucked her in tightly.
Only then, winded, did she sink down in the silent room to consider what this would mean. Tuberculosis was on the rise throughout the country, and it had been showing up with alarming frequency among several levels of the population, often in cities where people lived close together, and in migrant camps for the same reason. Many, like in Josefina's probable case, were misdiagnosed until the disease was advanced.
If it was indeed TB, Josefina would be quarantined until the active symptoms could be controlled, and then she would have to take a course of treatments that lasted eighteen months.
Molly reeled with the implications. The child was not going anywhere for quite some time. As an American citizen, she'd be placed with Social Services while Alejandro was deported. How could Molly stave it off?
The answer must have been brewing in the back of her mind, because it appeared, simple and terrifying, without much prompting. It also held the potential for a better than moderate humiliation for Molly, who would look even more like a s.e.x-starved widow. She didn't know if Alejandro would even agree though she suspected he would, to save his niece.
Before she could lose her nerve, Molly jumped up and went to find her supervisor. "I need some help," she said quietly.
"What's up?" Cathy asked.
"Keep Social Services and the law off the little girl in 202, will you? Just till morning."
Her eyes narrowed. "What's going on, Molly? You've been weird for two days."
Molly raised her eyebrows. "I can't tell you right this minute. But I promise I'll have some answers when I come back. Just keep the dogs off the girl for a few hours. Will you?"
"Yeah."
"I'll be back by say ... ten?"
Cathy nodded. "All right."
Alejandro had trouble falling asleep. Each time he lay down, thoughts of Josefina overtook him. Thoughts of her cold. Thoughts of her frightened. And each time, he'd work himself into a panic, wanting to act, and having no act to perform. Fear for her stole his breath.
He looked through the paperback books on one shelf. His reading in English was progressing, and he took a ghost story from the shelves. He considered going to the kitchen to get a gla.s.s of water, but it seemed too far for the a.s.sembled aches starting to creep back in all over him, and he settled with a blanket over his shoulders for warmth in the living room. The cat jumped up into his lap, a warm, heavy lump. Glad of the company, Alejandro stroked the silky, longish fur.
The reading proved to be more work than it was worth and with a sigh, he put the book aside. Sleep would make time pa.s.s faster. And he needed it for healing purposes he needed to take leave of his saint before he made some move that wounded her, offended her.
At the thought of Molly, however, the tightness in his neck seeped out. Encouraged, he let his mind take him to those moments on the back steps when he'd held her hair in his fingers, letting that swath of gold glide over his flesh. He allowed an imaginary
vision to follow the memory: gilt and earth hair glazing b.r.e.a.s.t.s shaped like half moons, her pale eyes turning quicksilver with need. He imagined kissing her, and wondered if it would be a surprise, or if she'd seen the curiosity and growing attraction in his eyes.
A pleasant la.s.situde spread through him, building a defense against stabbing thoughts of Josefina. Pleasant to think of a woman's body, the give of a breast, the heat of her thighs, the long, lazy ways he liked to make love. So much better than worry, he thought, leaning his head back, his fingers idly caressing the cat's back. So much better to think of kisses, and it had been a very long time since he'd allowed himself the luxury. He closed his eyes. Molly's mouth. Yes. Molly's b.r.e.a.s.t.s.
Molly found Alejandro asleep on the couch. She bent down, afraid she would lose her nerve if she delayed, and put her hand on his shoulder. "Alejandro."
He stirred, turning his head, and opening those dark liquid eyes. Sleep made his lids heavy, and he blinked once,then stretched a hand up to her face. "Saint Molly," he murmured, a soberness lying across his forehead as he looked up at her. His lashes, so extravagant, gave his eyes a kind of starriness. His thumb moved, and Molly, afraid he was going to caress her mouth, grabbed his wrist.
It didn't stop him. With the pad of his thumb, he touched her lower lip, brus.h.i.+ng over the flesh lightly. So lightly it was like a breath, and yet she felt the radiating reaction in the tiny hairs that rose on her body, down her nape, across her shoulders, down to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and the front of her thighs. She wanted to open her lips a little, touch her tongue to the tip of his thumb, but only knelt there next to him, feeling his hand on her face, her lip, and recognized that she'd never felt this level of desire for a man in her life.
He blinked, slowly, and his hand slid down her neck. "You're so beautiful," he murmured. "So alone."
Lonely.
Desire evaporated in the heat of humiliation and she turned her head away, her mouth tight, taking his wrist and putting his hand back on his own body. "You're not awake,"
she said briskly. "Wake up, Alejandro. This is important."
"I am awake," he said. But then her tone seemed to penetrate, and he frowned. "What is it?" He straightened too fast and she heard him grunt. His hands flew to his ribs, and
Molly, loath as she was to touch him, put a hand against his back to ease him up.
"What did you learn?" he said harshly.
"It's good news," she said. "Josefina is okay."
He lifted his head and blinked at her. "What did you say?"
She smiled. "Josefina is found. They brought her to the hospital. She's sick, but I told her you were okay, too." Aware of the places she still touched him, her palm to his back, her knee against histhigh, she s.h.i.+fted to the chair near his knees. "But she's found."
An exhalation gusted from him, a sound of profound relief. He closed his eyes, uttering a soft prayer of thanks. To her surprise, he reached for Molly's hand. In the fierce grip of his fingers, she felt the force of his emotion. After a moment, he said, "Now you will not worry about your brother. We will go soon, and he will not know."
Molly bowed her head. Released his hand to giveherself some distance. "It isn't that easy, Alejandro."
"Why? What do you mean?"
"I told you she is sick. You knew a little of that you took her to the Health Services clinic, right? And they gave you inhalers."
He frowned. "Yes, they said she had the asthma."
"It's not asthma. We aren't sure yet, but it looks like tuberculosis." She shook her head and spilled the rest very quickly. "The tests aren't back yet, but I'm going to tell you, it is TB, and it's serious, and she will have to be in the hospital for a while."
He touched her hand, once, lightly. "Molly, go slower, eh?"
"Sorry." But she took another big breath to fuel the rest of the words coming out of her now. "I thought and thought about this, and I don't know what you'll think, but there are no real answers, Alejandro. Not without lying." She could not bear to sit there and tell him the rest of the plan, so she jumped up and paced to the middle of the room, turned and folded her arms across her chest.
"This is my suggestion we could tell everyone we met before and fell madly in love and we're going to get married and then Josefina can get her medicine and you can get tested without getting deported, and maybe you can find some real work around here because it takes eighteen months for her to take all the medicine."
He went very still, his face completely unreadable. "Say that again. Very slowly. I do not want to misunderstand."
Feeling a painful heat in her face, Molly took a breath. "If we do a wedding, pretending to be in love, Josefina can be treated for her illness." She lifted a shoulder. "It won't have to be for long. Once your citizens.h.i.+p is established, we can divorce."
He looked away for a moment, and his hair fell forward, hiding his expression. Molly pressed her lips together, letting her offer settle, wondering if she'd offended him.
"It's not only for you," she added. "The whole town is going to find out that Molly Sheffield, the deputy sheriff's sister, was aiding and abetting a fugitive. I dispensed antibiotics and provided medical care for which I'm not licensed."
When he still was silent, she shook her head. "Okay," she said breathily. "You're right, it was a silly idea. I didn't mean to offend you."
He raised his head. "Offend me?"
Her hands fluttered, touched her breast, her face. She clasped them together in front of her. "Yes, make you mad."
Alejandro stood, very straight. Lean, too, and much taller than she. Graveness marked his mouth. "I did not mean I don't know the word. I know offend." He touched her shoulder lightly. "I also know honor."
Stiffly, Molly looked up at him, unable to hide the tears of humiliation in her eyes or the flush of embarra.s.sment in her face. As if he saw it, he lifted his hands and touched the fingertips to her cheeks. In her own defense, she began, "You must think-"
"I think you are kind." He laughed a little. "I think you are Mother Teresa, eh? It seems so." He lowered his hands to her arms. "If you do this thing for my niece andI , I will do anything to repay you. Fix your house. Plant your fields. Drive your car.
Whatever you ask, that thing I will do."