After climbing off the hammock, she crossed the small porch and peered through the screened door to the hut. William Wentworth’s brother was still asleep. She yanked fresh camo pants, another olive-green tank top, and a camo shirt out of her backpack, and then began to dress. She noticed that the muddy clothes she’d removed last night were hanging off a bamboo rod, the articles washed and still damp.
She frowned at Bjornolf. “Who…?” She waved her hand at her clothes. She couldn’t imagine Bjornolf had washed them. Nor any of the other men, for that matter.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted, looking like he was fighting a smile.
She envisioned him scrubbing the mud off her pants in the dark next to a stream and couldn’t believe it.
“Thanks.” She looked back at her clothes. What he’d done had been nothing short of heroic and thoughtful. “You took an awful risk. A croc could have gotten you,” she scolded.
“I killed him. Well, technically it was a caiman, a smaller crocodilian.”
She frowned at him, then seeing he was totally serious, she shook her head, trying not to chuckle. This was a side of him that was appealing and so unexpected.
She finished buttoning her shirt, needing to be fully clothed before she got too close to Bjornolf’s half-naked body, and whispered, “Did you hear the brothers talking last night?”
Bjornolf looked into her upturned face, his own expression dark, and nodded. “I spoke to Hunter about it already.”
“What did he say?”
“You know him. He has to ponder it for a while. He let the others know. We’re all mulling it over, coming up with different scenarios.”
“Blackmail?” she whispered.
“Possibly.” Bjornolf glanced at the hut. “We have to get them on their way.” He dressed, then walked toward the screen door. “I’ll wake and feed the family. You go do whatever it is you have to do, and we’ll all be ready to leave in a little bit.”
“All right.” She sat down on the floor and quickly pulled on her boots.
When Bjornolf rapped on the door to the hut, Wentworth answered in a tired voice, “Yeah?”
“Rise and shine, folks. Time to eat a bite and get on the road.”
Bjornolf walked inside the hut, speaking quietly to the dad, telling him about the next phase of the journey.
“What do you mean I need to give up my cell phone?” William asked, highly agitated.
“The men who took you hostage might be able to track you using the signal from your cell.”
“Can’t get a signal out here.”
“Just hand them over.” Bjornolf was no longer playing Mister Nice Guy. In truth, they had to make sure the brothers didn’t use them to contact someone to institute a new plan as soon as they did get a signal. “All of them.”
“I don’t have one,” Jimmy said, his voice small.
“That’s okay, Jimmy,” Bjornolf said.
Anna didn’t envy Bjornolf the job. She climbed down the ladder and found Allan standing partially hidden by the floor of the hut that served as a roof on stilts. He was chewing on a piece of meat and smiling at her.
He always looked cute, his cheeks dimpled, his eyes full of mirth. “Have a good sleep?”
“You should have woken me up for guard duty,” she said, annoyed.
“Hunter’s orders. You had babysitting duty along with Bjornolf.” At the last comment, his eyes narrowed a little as he looked up at the hut.
She snorted. But she wasn’t about to tell Allan that she had slept through the night. She also couldn’t believe Bjornolf had actually washed his clothes and hers, too. She’d have to do something good in turn for him.
Then she saw the black caiman stretched out over a fire. The reptile had to be at least thirteen feet in length! A little caiman? She looked up at the hut. That’s what he’d killed just to wash her clothes?
A few minutes later, the family descended the steps to the forest floor. Bjornolf carried the girl down, and Paul, the boy. Anna came out of the jungle to join the group, giving Bjornolf a look.
He wasn’t sure what was up until she said, “Little caiman?”
Loving that the she-wolf was in awe of his hunter prowess, he just smiled back at her, which earned him a shake of her head.
After roasting and eating the caiman that Bjornolf had slaughtered by the stream, they were on their way. As soon as they headed out, Jimmy asked the question no one wanted to answer. Not: When will we get home? Or: How long will this take?
“Are we gonna be home in time for Christmas and see Santa coming down the chimney? We have to leave milk and cookies out for Santa,” the boy continued.
Paul frowned, not responding.
“Will we be home before Santa comes?” Jimmy asked again, not about to be ignored.
“Sure, you’ll make it home in time for the jolly old elf to climb down the fireplace,” Paul said. “But we’ve got to be real quiet like before, okay?”
His eyes wide, the kid nodded.
That had Hunter wishing he was home with his family. His wolf pack celebrated the holidays like many packs did, although some years in the past he’d been on missions with his team. Christmas was only a couple of weeks away, and he looked forward to spending his first Christmas with Tessa and helping her decorate for the holidays. Finn and his sister had now become mates, so it would also be their first Christmas together. With Bjornolf and Anna sticking around? It would be a real SEAL holiday.
Using a machete, Hunter whacked through the thick foliage impeding their way, creating a narrow path through the jungle that would be swallowed up again soon, as if the humans hadn’t passed this way. Black howler monkeys called to each other, grew quiet as they listened for return calls, then howled again.
As daylight broke, the heat quickly elevated, and the buzz of winged insects filled the air. Thousands of cicadas added their noisy songs, the jungle sounds intruding on Hunter’s thoughts of hearth and home. As he and his team traveled through the dense jungle, Hunter cut through thick vines and branches, while he kept feeling as though someone was following them. The family stumbled over roots, the mother sobbed once, but the rescue team moved silently like wolves in a territory not usually their own. This was jaguar land.
Anna’s warning bird call sounded. Hunter stopped the group and waited, protectively shielding the party as Bjornolf lurched forward.
Remembering he had the girl on his back, he stopped long enough for the uncle to take hold of her before Bjornolf charged forth to rescue Anna again.
Chapter 4
When Bjornolf reached Anna at a low crouch behind a bank of ferns, he found her safe, his own heart hammering with worry for her. He tried to catch his breath as he drew close to her to see what she was observing.
She bowed her head in greeting as his arm brushed against hers, having to touch her like a wolf would and have the reassurance she truly was all right before he looked further into the matter that had concerned her.
Two men were attempting to drag a young native boy of maybe eight or nine with them. The kid was kicking and hitting and biting. She motioned to Bjornolf that she wanted him to draw the men’s attention so she could take them out and the boy could get away. “Involved with Wentworths,” she whispered.
One of the men said to the other in Spanish, “Where the hell are the Wentworths? I thought we were supposed to be done with this business by now. And be paid. Get that kid out of here.”