Man With A Mission. Lindsay McKenna

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Man With A Mission - Lindsay McKenna


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laughed and smiled a lot. More and more of his tension and anxiety were dissolving beneath her very capable manner and her gentleness. Again, Jake found it tough to imagine Ana being a combat helicopter pilot. But then, he also admitted he didn’t have a clue about the complex makeup of any woman. Especially someone like Ana. Still, he was powerfully drawn to her and wanted to know more about her on a personal level. The mission was in the way, though. And his heart was with Tal. He had no business being even mildly curious about Ana as a woman.

      Chuckling, Ana said, “You could say that. So, do we have a plan? We’ll get our gear in order and hop the train?” She looked at her watch. “It’s a little after noon. There’s one leaving in about twenty minutes, and we can make that if we walk fast. The train station is about a half a mile from here. Ready?”

      Jake nodded and stood. He automatically went over and pulled out the chair for Ana. She blushed beautifully over his courtly manners. He liked the slumberous quality he saw in her cinnamon eyes as she rose.

      “Thank you, Jake. That was very unexpected and kind of you.”

      He grinned a little shyly. “Chivalry isn’t dead, after all,” he murmured, shrugging on his pack. “White knights still exist. At least, in the form of a U.S. Army officer.” He saw Ana place her pack on her chair and open it up. She withdrew a beautiful handwoven scarf of brilliant rainbow colors. Placing it around her neck, she knotted it gently so that it hung between her breasts.

      “That’s beautiful. What is it?”

      Ana closed her knapsack. When she started to put it across her shoulders, Jake quickly picked it up and held it so that she could easily slide her arms through it. His fingers brushed her shoulder. Her skin tingled. “Thank you,” she said a little breathlessly. As she headed for the stairs, she said, “It’s my chalina. I don’t know if they told you of my background,” she said, taking the stairs quickly, with Jake fast on her heels. “I was born in Ollytatambu, at the end of Rainbow Valley. My mother is of the Que’ro bloodline, the last of the Inkas. She is a laykka, a healer. And when I was growing up, she taught me to weave, as all daughters are taught the art.”

      At the bottom of the stairs, Ana waved goodbye to Patrick and moved out of the restaurant and down the concrete walk toward the main thoroughfare of Agua Caliente. It was glutted with tourists from around the world. Jake quickly caught up to her and walked at her shoulder, his head cocked toward her as she continued to talk.

      “Every teenage girl makes her own chalina. They are always of rainbow colors because my people believe the rainbow is the two-headed snake of creation.” She picked up the flowing end of the woven alpaca. “When a young Quechua woman decides that she is ready for a sexual relationship and marriage, she wears this. It is a sign that she will consider an offer from a young man of her choice. When she finds the man she wants to love, she will place the scarf about his neck and let him know that she wants to commit to a long, serious relationship with him. If the young man accepts, then they go off and consummate their relationship. Afterward, they visit each of the parents’ homes and tell them of their commitment to one another. Both families must approve of their intention.”

      Jake raised his brows. They moved quickly down the concrete highway, weaving in and out of the heavy human traffic. On either side, one-and two-story homes stood. Natives dressed in colorful clothing walked in the crowds selling T-shirts, jewelry and other tourist items. “I don’t think your tradition would get very far in the States.”

      Ana laughed pleasantly. She absorbed Jake’s interest and attention. She had just spent a year without any male company and was beginning to understand how starved she’d become for conversation with the opposite sex. Men and women were different, and she enjoyed those differences. “Maybe it should. At least we are more open and honest about wanting to love another person.” She patted the chalina gently as it swayed back and forth with her quick stride. “We don’t sneak around, either. It’s a very open, aboveboard signal. No guesswork.” She grinned. “And it puts the emphasis on long-term commitment. This is not a roll in the hay, as I suspect you think.”

      Jake had the good grace to blush. “I didn’t say that.” By now they were crossing the plaza. Every town in Peru, he understood, had one. It was a central meeting place for the entire community and was bordered on all four sides by buildings. The cathedral was made out of gray and black granite stones, all carefully cut and laid. A testament to Inka ingenuity and skill, the stone wall was smooth and beautiful looking.

      “Knowing what I know of norteamericanos,” Ana said impishly, “your people have very puritan views of human sexuality and sensuality. Down here in South America, we honor a woman’s beauty in every way, and we also embrace our sexuality as well. It’s not a taboo or dirty thing to be hidden or be ashamed of. And we don’t go around rutting like sheep, either. The Que’ro way of using the chalina signals openly a young woman’s desire. Before that, she has not had sex with anyone. So you see, it’s a very monogamous ideal and has tradition at the heart of it.”

      Jake nodded. “I can see that. So is that why you are wearing it?” They moved through the square and down a hard-packed dirt slope. On his left was the roaring Urubamba River, on his right, several government buildings painted salmon and robin’s-egg blue. As they reached the bottom of the hill, Ana led him up another hill that was lined with stalls and sellers. Up ahead, he saw the train station.

      “I wear it because it is a sign that I am a local. I am not a gringo. When we go into this village and I speak in Quechua to the people to try and find out information about your sister, they’ll not mistake me for an outsider.” She dug the toes of her leather boots into the hard dirt road and moved quickly toward the train station. There was a large roofed-in area, and two trains sitting on the tracks. A concrete slab provided a place for passengers to rest their luggage before boarding.

      At the train office, Ana bought two tickets, handing over the soles, the Peruvian currency, necessary for the purchase. She turned and gave Jake his ticket. “We have to hurry….” she said a little breathlessly, and jogged around the building toward the first train. Jake hurried after her. They hopped on board. Ana spotted the last two seats available, in the back. As he moved toward the seat, Jake noticed the train was filled with tourists from many nations. After placing his and Ana’s packs in the overhead metal rack, he sat down beside her. Room was sparse and he was large. There was a European couple speaking German next to them, so he squeezed his bulk in, right against Ana. He had no choice. She didn’t seem to mind his nearness. Like a hungry wolf, Jake secretly absorbed her tall, firm body and the warmth of her skin against his. He shouldn’t enjoy it so much, he told himself sternly, under the circumstances.

      The train jerked and started. It slowly began to leave Agua Caliente. Very quickly, it clickety-clacked into the jungle, following the Urubamba. Jake watched as Ana gently fingered the alpaca scarf with her lean, graceful hand. Knowing this wasn’t the time or place to speak of their mission, he decided to ask her personal questions instead. Anyone eavesdropping would not be any the wiser.

      “So, you come from a Que’ro family? A family of healers?”

      Ana enjoyed his strength and warmth against her. It was a good thing Jake couldn’t read her mind, because she was absorbing his very male energy into herself and her heart. How she missed talking with a man! She hadn’t realized how much until now. Before, she’d had Roberto, whom she met at least once a month for a weekend down in Lima, and they would chatter like two parrots to one another about so many things. Ana was now beginning to understand just how much she missed him. And when she saw the burning sincerity in Jake’s pale blue eyes, she knew she would lap up each moment of his attention like a cat being served a warm saucer of milk.

      “My mother’s family has owned land in Rainbow Valley for generations. They are campesinos, farmers, close to the land and to Pachamama.”

      “Pachamama?”

      She smiled fondly. “Peruvian for Mother Earth. My people have a mystical and spiritual connection to all of nature.” Ana pointed upward at the green hills. “In a little while, you will see a beautiful apu, a mountain with a living spirit who resides in it. We believe that the apus are powerful guardians


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