snug-fitting cargo pants, khaki-colored camp shirt, and lightweight jacket were mundane but still managed to elicit appreciative stares and comments in Swahili from the attendants.
Zak nodded a morning greeting, but they packed and settled in the plane without conversation. The short forty-five minute flight from Mombasa to the Keekorok Airstrip inside the Masai Mara National Reserve featured none of the energy of the flight from London. Sara seemed withdrawn and preoccupied. While the change was more comfortable for Zak, she was also disappointed. She had hoped their last day would be cordial and filled with new experiences for Sara. But this way was probably best. The less notable their interactions, the fewer memories she’d have to forget or try to hide.
*
Sara watched Zak settle her black-clad body into the plane seat and wondered why she’d been compelled to touch her last night during dinner. Ever since that touch Sara felt off balance, a little confused. This detached, evasive woman wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met, but something about her intrigued Sara. Her Catholic guilt kicked in and she’d tried to call Rikki back twice but had to leave a message both times. Then the reforming Catholic in her revolted. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d simply reached out during a moment of shared pain when Zak dropped her guard.
Their connection was brief but tangible. This silent treatment must be her punishment. Somehow it seemed worth it. To look into those steel-colored eyes and know that she’d been understood had validated her in a brand-new way. But their link had been tenuous, and in a few hours Zak Chambers would be out of her life.
The plane started to descend and Sara looked out the window for the first time since takeoff. A huge expanse of orange dirt and dry scrub grass stretched to the horizon, and a herd of wildebeests ran from the noise of their engines. An occasional solitary tree broke the view out across the plains. Tiny lines crisscrossed the savannah in all directions. As their descent continued, the lines became narrow paths. She tried to find some sign of civilization as the plane neared the ground.
“Where’s the airport?” Her voice sounded forced and unfamiliar.
“Straight ahead. Keekorok Airport.”
“But I don’t see anything except—” One of the narrow paths became a single-lane road full of ruts and bumps. A strip of packed red clay and rocks, lined on either side by a single shrub and a windsock, served as the landing strip. “Oh, my God.”
The wheels hit the ground and Sara grabbed the seat arms to stop the jarring of her teeth. “You have got to be kidding.” She thought she heard a soft chuckle from Zak as a wave of dust engulfed the plane. She dug her nails into the seat fabric, her fingers aching. At least if the plane couldn’t stop immediately it had plenty of room out here to coast. She tried to think on the bright side, then realized they’d slowed to a stop. To the left of the makeshift runway, a concrete platform topped by a sheet of tin housed two backless benches. A rock-and-sod building with two doors advertised the facilities for gents and ladies. “You might’ve warned me,” she grumbled, but Zak was already headed to the door.
“I don’t see our trucks or supplies. That probably means your new guide isn’t here either. Call your people and see what’s happened while I collect our things.”
“Yes, master.” Sara executed a mock salute and dialed Randall’s number. When she finished her conversation and exited the aircraft, Zak was standing under the shelter with their luggage, hands on her hips, looking expectantly toward the plane.
Sara took a deep breath and almost choked on the dry powdery dust that still hung in the air. The sky was crystal blue without a single cloud and the temperature felt like springtime. Two people wandered near the toilets but she could see no one else: no cars, no homes, only the vast savannah. She
Zak nodded a morning greeting, but they packed and settled in the plane without conversation. The short forty-five minute flight from Mombasa to the Keekorok Airstrip inside the Masai Mara National Reserve featured none of the energy of the flight from London. Sara seemed withdrawn and preoccupied. While the change was more comfortable for Zak, she was also disappointed. She had hoped their last day would be cordial and filled with new experiences for Sara. But this way was probably best. The less notable their interactions, the fewer memories she’d have to forget or try to hide.
*
Sara watched Zak settle her black-clad body into the plane seat and wondered why she’d been compelled to touch her last night during dinner. Ever since that touch Sara felt off balance, a little confused. This detached, evasive woman wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met, but something about her intrigued Sara. Her Catholic guilt kicked in and she’d tried to call Rikki back twice but had to leave a message both times. Then the reforming Catholic in her revolted. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d simply reached out during a moment of shared pain when Zak dropped her guard.
Their connection was brief but tangible. This silent treatment must be her punishment. Somehow it seemed worth it. To look into those steel-colored eyes and know that she’d been understood had validated her in a brand-new way. But their link had been tenuous, and in a few hours Zak Chambers would be out of her life.
The plane started to descend and Sara looked out the window for the first time since takeoff. A huge expanse of orange dirt and dry scrub grass stretched to the horizon, and a herd of wildebeests ran from the noise of their engines. An occasional solitary tree broke the view out across the plains. Tiny lines crisscrossed the savannah in all directions. As their descent continued, the lines became narrow paths. She tried to find some sign of civilization as the plane neared the ground.
“Where’s the airport?” Her voice sounded forced and unfamiliar.
“Straight ahead. Keekorok Airport.”
“But I don’t see anything except—” One of the narrow paths became a single-lane road full of ruts and bumps. A strip of packed red clay and rocks, lined on either side by a single shrub and a windsock, served as the landing strip. “Oh, my God.”
The wheels hit the ground and Sara grabbed the seat arms to stop the jarring of her teeth. “You have got to be kidding.” She thought she heard a soft chuckle from Zak as a wave of dust engulfed the plane. She dug her nails into the seat fabric, her fingers aching. At least if the plane couldn’t stop immediately it had plenty of room out here to coast. She tried to think on the bright side, then realized they’d slowed to a stop. To the left of the makeshift runway, a concrete platform topped by a sheet of tin housed two backless benches. A rock-and-sod building with two doors advertised the facilities for gents and ladies. “You might’ve warned me,” she grumbled, but Zak was already headed to the door.
“I don’t see our trucks or supplies. That probably means your new guide isn’t here either. Call your people and see what’s happened while I collect our things.”
“Yes, master.” Sara executed a mock salute and dialed Randall’s number. When she finished her conversation and exited the aircraft, Zak was standing under the shelter with their luggage, hands on her hips, looking expectantly toward the plane.
Sara took a deep breath and almost choked on the dry powdery dust that still hung in the air. The sky was crystal blue without a single cloud and the temperature felt like springtime. Two people wandered near the toilets but she could see no one else: no cars, no homes, only the vast savannah. She
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