Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
A strong breeze whipped across Ginger’s face, cooling the sweat trails on her face and throwing sand into her eyes.
She glanced in the direction Noah had gone, unable to feel settled.
She could no longer see him through the binoculars.
He’d approached a massive stone wall, then disappeared out of sight.
“You’re not entirely comfortable with his line of work, are you?” Sarah said, breaking her train of thought.
As she wiped her face, Ginger noticed the gnats swarming near the eyes of the mare. The poor creature had no way to easily repel them, but it didn’t seem to mind either. “It’s hard to feel that every time he walks away from me, it could be the last time I see him.”
“Yet you married him knowing that about him.” Sarah took a swig of water, swished it in her mouth, then spit it out.
Ginger wished she had a hat instead of the veil and shielded her eyes with her hand. The brightness of the sun was blinding. “I did. But I love him. I could hardly have avoided it if I wanted to be with him.”
“I suppose.” Sarah shrugged and pulled her face veil back into place.
Hadn’t Sarah said she was “crazy” about her own husband? Her remark was curious. “Why did you get married?”
Sarah laughed lightly, rolling her neck.
Even with the burqa, she had the mannerisms of someone distinctly not native.
“Mostly to prove to my father that I knew better than he did.” Her eyes glinted.
“Turns out he might have been right. But, I don’t know.
Even despite him being a bastard, I did more exciting things with Paul by my side than I ever dreamed possible. ”
Ginger chewed on her lower lip. Jane Radford. Sarah Hanover. Even herself. They’d all struck out on their own. The results hadn’t been quite what they’d expected, nothing had been easy, and their dreams hadn’t been without sacrifice.
And then there were women like Olivia Hendricks and Lucy. Women who sacrificed what they wanted for what was expected and easy.
But they didn’t seem happy either. And they hadn’t really gotten what they wanted in the long run.
“Sometimes I wonder if we don’t all put too much expectation on unpredictable outcomes.
If this war has taught me anything, it’s that any semblance of control I have is just an illusion,” Ginger said.
How many times had she heard soldiers making plans one day, only for those plans to go terribly awry the next?
Sarah lifted her canteen in a mock toast. “Hear hear. Which is why I learned to live for myself. Everyone else is too unpredictable.” She nodded in the direction Noah had gone.
“Including him. He seems like a good guy though. But if you’re worried that he’s going to disappoint you one day, let it go.
He will. That’s just the nature of man.”
As wise as Sarah’s words sounded, a protective feeling curled around Ginger’s heart. She and Noah loved each other in a way she had never imagined possible. Wouldn’t that help them get through the difficulties too?
“Do you think Jack is still there?” Ginger asked instead.
“I don’t know. But if Noah’s right, they may not be in a hurry to move him yet. Or think that a man fleeing from the army is more likely to be worried about his own hide than rescuing his friend.”
Two gunshots punctured their conversation.
Noah.
Ginger lifted a shaky hand, putting the binoculars back up to her eyes. Noah had re-emerged … and appeared to have Jack slung over his shoulder. Her breath caught. How on earth had Noah found Jack so easily? Noah started running toward them.
About thirty yards behind him, a couple of men were giving chase.
Jack’s arms hung limply.
Oh my God. He’s dead.
“Hurry!” Ginger said, but Sarah had already taken off across the sand. Her horse’s hooves pounded against the ground, sending up a trail of dust, and Ginger had to squint to avoid it landing in her eyes.
She followed Sarah, her heart pounding. Please don’t let Jack be dead, she prayed, her body falling into the rhythmic gallop of the horse. Each fall of the hooves pulsed through her like an electric pulse. How had Noah found him so quickly?
Something must be wrong.
They reached Noah minutes later. He’d continued to run toward them, and his face dripped with sweat, the false beard beginning to curl away. As they reached him, Noah set Jack down on the ground, then ripped the beard from his face, wincing and out of breath.
Ginger scrambled from her horse toward Jack. “What happened? Is he alive?”
As she drew closer to Jack, she saw his chest move with breath and relief poured through her. She rolled him onto his back, the smell of vomit and feces reaching her. His skin was a sickly yellow, and his forehead burned to the touch.
Sarah held the reins to the three horses, who stepped in place nervously. She drew a gun, firing toward the men heading their way.
Jack’s eyelids fluttered and then he curled onto his side, moaning. “He has malaria,” Ginger said. She met Noah’s eyes. “How did you get him—”
“He was under the tent, unguarded.” Noah’s eyes were dark. “I think they must have moved him outside to be sick. We have to get him on the horse.”
“There’s more of them, Noah.” Sarah’s voice held a warning.
Ginger swiveled her gaze toward the Serapeum. Four men were scrambling out from behind the walls, surveying the desert, about a hundred feet away. Another man was bringing horses from a separate direction.
As the sound of more gunshots cracked the atmosphere, the gelding Noah had been riding reared backward and broke away from Sarah’s grasp. He took off with a whinny, tearing away from them.
Noah swore. Pulling his gun out, he returned fire toward the men. “Get Jack up on a horse!” he called out.
Ginger and Noah bent down and helped lift Jack onto Sarah’s horse. His body was nearly draped across her legs, but Sarah made no complaint, and handed Ginger the reins to the other horse. As Sarah took off at a gallop, Ginger mounted the horse.
More gunshots.
She steadied her breath, praying they wouldn’t be hit. A glance back revealed the men quickly gaining on them, now on their own horses.
Noah swung up onto the horse, behind her, then they started forward. The mare seemed to resist, then stumbled slightly. Ginger’s hands tightened on the reins as Noah fired behind them again.
“Osborne is with them,” Noah said, his voice a shout near her ear.
Osborne was here? She resisted the urge to look back, but his face flashed in her mind and she shuddered. How many times had the man left her at the hospital in Cairo in the morning and come here? The thought of his duplicity made her skin crawl with disgust.
As the mare seemed to stumble again, Noah reached past her, then drew the horse to a halt. Before she could make sense of his actions, Noah dismounted. “This horse is too weak to carry the both of us.”
Her mind took a moment to catch the full meaning of his words.
He meant for her to go on without him.
She twisted her body to face him. “Noah, no!” Another gunshot cracked past.
“You must go.” Noah lifted both hands, as though in surrender.
No. Not this. There had to be another way.
“I won’t leave you.” Her mouth felt dry, her fingers shaking. She reached out for him.
“You must, rohi. Go, they’re getting closer.” Noah took her hand in his and squeezed it. “Get out of here. I’m safer if you’re not with me. If they don’t have you.”
The gunshots, it appeared, had stopped. The men chasing them slowed.
Could it be true? Her capture had been used against him before.
Ginger stared at him squarely in the eyes, her brain scrambling for anything that might help. “Tell Osborne I’m coming back tonight with the location of the concession. That he can have it—but only if you’re still alive.”
“Get out of here!” Noah released her hand, then hit her horse across the backside as hard as he could.
The horse took off at a gallop.
As it carried her away, tears slid from Ginger’s eyes onto her cheeks. She looked over her shoulder, terrified as the men descended upon Noah, guns drawn.
Every fiber within her screamed at her to turn back.
Would they kill him?
A sob choked her throat. She hadn’t even told him she loved him.
Then she pressed the horse harder, faster, following Jack and Sarah.