good." A small smile crept over his face. "This baby will ease the family’s way to citizenship." He turned his attention to the mother, whispering what Kayla presumed were words of encouragement.
"I need to discuss this with my mom and sisters. Maybe they can stay until the baby comes." She understood how important it was for the family to have a healthy baby and soon.
"Of course." He took the woman's fingers in his. She was curled up in a fetal position, and looked to be in agony.
Kayla backed away a few feet, wanting to hide from these people and not see their despair. "She needs a hospital. They all do. Look at them," she urged. "They need medical care." As she spoke, she grabbed an afghan from the closet and put it around the small boy's shoulders.
"You're right. They do." He held up the woman’s bare arms, covered in ugly welts. "Jellyfish bites. They're all badly bitten."
She stood there, torn between her instinct to help and fix while protecting her mother and sisters.
Sean said, "If you could have seen them clinging to that wood, a small piece of what had been their raft, and know they braved possible storms, strong currents and the very real threat of sharks, you'd know just how determined they were to leave their country behind." He rubbed his jaw. "When I asked Miguel about it, he said the raft was made from spray foam, wrapped in tarp and metal rods. The engine was from an old car."
Kayla squirmed at the image forming in her head. It wasn’t safe, by any means. "That's crazy! I can't believe anyone would be desperate enough to try crossing the straight in a thing like that."
She tried not to look at Raul. The fear in his big brown eyes just melted her heart, urging Kayla to wrap him up and protect him. But getting involved might mean landing her own family in trouble. She didn't have the solution to the immigrant issues. At this moment, Kayla just wanted these people safe, protected and handed over to professionals who would protect their rights.
"Well, unfortunately too many people do,” Sean said, sitting back on his heels. “No one knows for sure how many lives are lost, but it's believed that only one in four rafters make it to shore."
One in four? What terrible odds. "How do you know this stuff?"
"I had a lot of spare time when I was sailing around for the past month." Sean kept his eye on Juanita as she took shallow breaths. "I'd seen the Coast Guard patrolling the straits, and found it interesting enough to read up on."
"Speaking of the Coast Guard, we need to alert the authorities and tell them they’re here. You can explain to Homeland Security or Immigration, or whoever's in charge, just how you rescued them at sea." He could be a hero; she’d be out of trouble.
"That's the problem,” Sean said with a slight shrug, glancing at her over his shoulder. “They didn't make it by themselves. My rescue at sea could mean they have "wet foot." Not sure how that would play out. Might mean they'd be deported."
Ah. "I see. Well, that makes things more difficult, doesn't it?"
"Guess it does." He shrugged. "There's something else you should know. I'm a doctor, Kayla.”
She blinked. Why would a doctor be hiding away like a recluse in her humble little cottage instead of doing what he was trained to do? Except today, he was. Fighting to save these people, rescuing them from certain death.
“I'm just asking for a few hours, until they’re strong enough to leave. Then we can call the authorities. I'm sure there's some protocol that has to be followed, but first I want to deliver a healthy baby, a US citizen. Don't you?"
She chewed on her bottom lip. He had a compelling argument, but what were the consequences of helping them illegally? She took a few steps back. "I'm going to get something for their jellyfish bites and talk this through with my family. I want the same things you do, but we also have a business to protect." Her stomach was roiling, making her slightly nauseas. "I'm worried,
"I need to discuss this with my mom and sisters. Maybe they can stay until the baby comes." She understood how important it was for the family to have a healthy baby and soon.
"Of course." He took the woman's fingers in his. She was curled up in a fetal position, and looked to be in agony.
Kayla backed away a few feet, wanting to hide from these people and not see their despair. "She needs a hospital. They all do. Look at them," she urged. "They need medical care." As she spoke, she grabbed an afghan from the closet and put it around the small boy's shoulders.
"You're right. They do." He held up the woman’s bare arms, covered in ugly welts. "Jellyfish bites. They're all badly bitten."
She stood there, torn between her instinct to help and fix while protecting her mother and sisters.
Sean said, "If you could have seen them clinging to that wood, a small piece of what had been their raft, and know they braved possible storms, strong currents and the very real threat of sharks, you'd know just how determined they were to leave their country behind." He rubbed his jaw. "When I asked Miguel about it, he said the raft was made from spray foam, wrapped in tarp and metal rods. The engine was from an old car."
Kayla squirmed at the image forming in her head. It wasn’t safe, by any means. "That's crazy! I can't believe anyone would be desperate enough to try crossing the straight in a thing like that."
She tried not to look at Raul. The fear in his big brown eyes just melted her heart, urging Kayla to wrap him up and protect him. But getting involved might mean landing her own family in trouble. She didn't have the solution to the immigrant issues. At this moment, Kayla just wanted these people safe, protected and handed over to professionals who would protect their rights.
"Well, unfortunately too many people do,” Sean said, sitting back on his heels. “No one knows for sure how many lives are lost, but it's believed that only one in four rafters make it to shore."
One in four? What terrible odds. "How do you know this stuff?"
"I had a lot of spare time when I was sailing around for the past month." Sean kept his eye on Juanita as she took shallow breaths. "I'd seen the Coast Guard patrolling the straits, and found it interesting enough to read up on."
"Speaking of the Coast Guard, we need to alert the authorities and tell them they’re here. You can explain to Homeland Security or Immigration, or whoever's in charge, just how you rescued them at sea." He could be a hero; she’d be out of trouble.
"That's the problem,” Sean said with a slight shrug, glancing at her over his shoulder. “They didn't make it by themselves. My rescue at sea could mean they have "wet foot." Not sure how that would play out. Might mean they'd be deported."
Ah. "I see. Well, that makes things more difficult, doesn't it?"
"Guess it does." He shrugged. "There's something else you should know. I'm a doctor, Kayla.”
She blinked. Why would a doctor be hiding away like a recluse in her humble little cottage instead of doing what he was trained to do? Except today, he was. Fighting to save these people, rescuing them from certain death.
“I'm just asking for a few hours, until they’re strong enough to leave. Then we can call the authorities. I'm sure there's some protocol that has to be followed, but first I want to deliver a healthy baby, a US citizen. Don't you?"
She chewed on her bottom lip. He had a compelling argument, but what were the consequences of helping them illegally? She took a few steps back. "I'm going to get something for their jellyfish bites and talk this through with my family. I want the same things you do, but we also have a business to protect." Her stomach was roiling, making her slightly nauseas. "I'm worried,
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