“What should we do?”
Ian weighed his options. He wasn’t keen on waltzing into an ambush, with or without Maria by his side. He had no idea if thefederaleswere working with the cowboy or not. After a moment, the man pinched out his cigarillo and continued across the bridge. “Maybe we can find somewhere else to wait along the tracks. If you spot Sarai and your brother, you can warn them to jump off early.”
“That will be dangerous.”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” she said, nodding. “I’m in.”
Of course she was. Although it was risky to ask two teenagers to leap from a moving train, it wasn’t as risky as greeting the welcoming committee in Benjamín Hill. Those men weren’t here to help Sarai. They’d do anything to capture Armando Villarreal. If Ian didn’t act fast, Sarai would get intercepted by federal agents and probably end up in cartel hands.
And, as much as it pained him to admit, Ian needed Maria to execute his plan. Sarai and Hugo wouldn’t listen to him alone. Ian needed Maria for other reasons too. She was like the air he breathed, like cool water and sunshine. She was everything pure and good.
He studied her profile, memorizing every detail of her face. He loved the sleek lines and curves. The soft sweep of lashes. Her pretty nose and lush mouth. He even loved the slightly crooked tooth that hinted at her fierce nature when she smiled. She was part lamb, part lion.
He hoped he was making the right decision. If anything bad happened to her, he’d die.
Tearing his gaze away, he climbed down the ladder and returned to the bike. They headed south, away from town. The road didn’t run parallel to the tracks, so he had to zigzag around for a couple of miles before he found his way back. He followed a dirt path across a long stretch of flat, sandy terrain, dotted with green sagebrush and mesquite bushes. They came upon a hilly area that looked promising. There was a dry gulch beneath a cluster of bottlebrush trees. He parked behind the trees and they hunkered down in the shade to wait.
It had been warm all day, but pleasant. Over the past hour, the clouds had disappeared and the temperature had skyrocketed. He took off his pin-striped shirt and put on his shoulder holster. Maria removed a bottle of water from the backpack and shared some with him.
“I will wave my arms and tell them to jump,” she said. “That’s it?”
“Yes.”
She nibbled on her lower lip, seeming conflicted. “What if Sarai won’t jump?”
“You think she won’t?”
“The train goes by fast. She might not trust me.”
“Tell her Armando is here.”
Her mouth dropped open. “That’s a lie.”
“It’s a lie that could save her life.”
After a moment of contemplation, she got up and walked across the tracks. About ten feet away, there was a prickly pear cactus laden with ripe, dark pink fruit. She used a stick to knock off a piece of fruit. It was about the size of a kiwi, and covered with tiny needles. Stabbing it with her stick, she brought the fruit back to the gulch.
“You hungry?”
“No. I am going to make a sign.”
She spread out the map on the sand and tore the fruit in half. Its juice was a rich purple color, like natural ink. She plucked a leaf from the tree above them. Holding the fruit carefully with the leaf, she wrote four words on the map in big letters:
SARAI HUGO
BRINQUEN AQUÍ
Jump here.
With the remaining juice, she painted the outline of a butterfly. The message was easy to read, friendly, and hinted at her connection to Armando.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“I think you’re a fucking genius.”
“Really?”
