Hold Me by Lucianne Rivers Page A

the photo of her dad, speaking in Spanish to Cady.
    “What?” she asked.
    “He says he thinks he spotted your dad on the road to Tikal a month or so ago.”
    Tikal was the nearby site of the Mayan ruins. The clerk pulled out an ancient road map, and the man and boy pointed to various locations.
    Cady turned to her. “They think that Zach might live along the route. There are several ex-pats in the area. That’s heavy jungle, but someone could live out there with only the occasional trip to town for supplies.”
    She drew him aside. “Can you take me to him?”
    “Of course.”
    “I’ll hold off on calling my sisters until I have news.” With any luck, she would know for certain, within a matter of hours, if Zach Caldwell was here.
    The teenager and clerk ceased their chatter and looked at her expectantly.
    “Ask them how to get there.”
    …
    The ‘chicken bus,’ as Cady called it—a converted, highly decorated, retired American school bus that passed for local transport—deposited them on the mud road at the foot of a hill.
    After walking a half-mile uphill, they found what might be Zach’s house, although the structure looked more like a shack. A wire fence surrounded the property and a goat stood tethered to a stump a couple of feet away. Nerves filled Jane’s gut and she shot Cady a glance. Sweat formed a saturated stripe down the middle of his narrow back. She looked no better.
    If her father actually lived here, what on earth would she say to him? What if he didn’t recognize her? As if sensing her unease, Cady slipped his arm around her waist, not overly possessive, just comforting. She hoped he had dealt with whatever had made him distant toward her this morning.
    The front door of the house creaked open, its occupant in shadow. What if it was truly her father? Her hands trembled.
    “Who’s there?” a man called.
    Cady’s arm tightened. “We’re looking for someone. An American,” he shouted.
    The goat bleated.
    The man stepped into the light and Jane caught sight of him. Was he her dad? She squinted into the sun, and her heart beat frantically.
    “Come on up,” the man replied.
    She and Cady navigated through foliage and potholes, entering the compound. The man moved toward them, dragging one of his legs as if from an old injury.
    War wound?
    Jane surveyed his weathered face for signs of recognition. His brown eyes creased in wonderment.
    “Jane? Is that you?”
    He recognizes me.
    Her heart clenched. “Dad?” Her voice squeaked with disbelief.
    Cady relaxed his hold on her.
    The man held out his shirt-clad arms and Jane stepped into them. Gingerly, unsure, she hugged him. He smelled like tobacco. The man returned her tentative embrace, smiling. She supposed he could be her dad, even though his eyes appeared narrower than she remembered, and, in her youth, Zach Caldwell hadn’t been a smoker.
    Excitement bubbled up, then anger. “Where the hell did you go? Why did you leave us?”
    He drew back, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
    “How could you abandon your family like that? Mom told us you were dead. She thought you were dead.”
    His lips peeled back in a rueful grimace. “Your mother said that?”
    Jane nodded.
    Zach blew out a breath and ran his hand through his gray, military-cut hair.
    Her throat clenched and she couldn’t speak. So many questions and all she wanted to do was cry.
    Zach glanced at Cady. “And you are?”
    “Harrison. A friend.”
    Zach looked back to Jane and tipped his head toward the door. “Come inside.”
    Grasping Cady’s hand, she followed her father into the shack, made of wood and tin, and looking a bit unsturdy. Jane sat in a plastic chair while Zach searched for drinks and offered them a beer. Neither she nor Cady took one, but Zach cracked open a bottle and guzzled half of it.
    I found my dad, I found my dad, I found my dad.
    The mantra repeated in her brain, making it impossible for her to think. She had to call Ally and Margo. Lord knew how