On Wings Of Deliverance

“About five more hours.”

“Five hours?” Owen felt a gusty sigh against his back. “I thought I was in pretty good shape, but I’m beginning to feel muscles I didn’t know I had.”

“Wait ’til you try to get to sleep tonight.”

“Oh, thanks. You’re such an encouragement. I guess this is no big deal for you, huh?”

“Well, old Sunflower’s not exactly in the same league as my cutting horse.”

“You ride the rodeo circuit?”

“Yup. Three-time amateur calf-roping regional champ. Got the buckles to prove it.”

Bernadette chuckled. “I’d like to see you ride sometime.”

Owen felt his chest swell a bit. “You could come this fall, after you get home.”

There was a short silence. “I’m not sure where home is.”

“I’m guessing Mexico doesn’t cut it.”

“Not yet.”

“Is Memphis your stomping ground?”

“No.” He thought she wasn’t going to elaborate, but then she said, “I grew up in Collierville. It’s a little bit east of Memphis.”

“Really? Tell me about your family. You got brothers and sisters?”

“No, I was in foster care.”

“Oh.” Kids in foster care generally came from messed-up families that they’d just as soon you didn’t mention.

Bad experiences.

He briefly laid his hand on top of hers and felt her fingers flutter against his palm. “I’m sorry, Benny.”

“One of my foster moms gave me a Bible. She was a nice lady.”

Owen didn’t find it nearly as easy to talk about spiritual things as his brother did, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get Benny to talk. “Is she the one who taught you about the Lord?”

“She tried. Her name was Mrs. Coker. How about you? How did you come to know Christ?”

“The usual. Vacation Bible school. Mom had us in church every time the doors were open.”

“You’re very blessed, Owen.”

“I know.” He shifted in the saddle. “But then my dad blew it all at the end. I don’t understand how he could throw our family away for money. I always looked up to him as a kid. He was my hero.”

Three years ago Owen’s father, a Border Patrol agent, had been involved in a smuggling scheme that had resulted in the murder of two other agents. A year later he’d been killed while trying to cover his tracks. Owen’s mother was just now getting over the tragedy.

Benny was quiet for a moment. Then to Owen’s astonishment she laced her fingers through his. “Lots of times people self-destruct when they’re separated from God, Owen. Make sure you stay close to Him.”

Owen could have sworn she laid her cheek against his back for a fleeting second. He decided it must have been his imagination.

Still, he was strangely comforted, even when Benny released his hand and began to sing, off-key, “Arroz con leche.”

Rice pudding, huh? He goosed Sunflower with his heels. Poza Rica was a long way off.

“Wait a minute, Briggs.” Grenville turned off the speakerphone and shut the door of his home office. He sank back into the antique leather chair and swiveled to face the picture window looking out onto his front lawn. “What did you find out?”

“They didn’t make it to Laredo.”

“Then where did they go?”

“Seems they made an emergency landing somewhere north of Veracruz. Some farmers in the area reported it. I must have nicked the fuel tanks.”

Grenville watched two hummingbirds squabbling over the red glass feeder hanging from the eaves. He found their antics soothing. “Where are you now?”

“Laredo, their intended destination.”

“Then you’ll just have to backtrack. Head for the area where the plane turned up.”

Briggs sighed. “I’m on it.”

“Briggs…” Grenville paused, picking up the morning newspaper covering his desk blotter. The front page of the editorial section displayed an old file photo of himself, sharing a basketball trophy with his college roommate and cocaptain—now the President of the United States.

“Yeah, boss?”

Grenville tossed the paper into the trash can. “Find them.”

FOUR

Benny slid off the mule and into Owen’s arms. Her thigh muscles ached, her knees were rubbery and there were blisters in places she didn’t want to think about. To make it worse, her stomach had been rumbling for the last hour. It was past noon and Owen had to be starving, too.

Owen grabbed the mule’s harness. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, thanks.” She stepped back, staggering a little. “I’ll get out lunch while you take care of Sunflower.”

They’d stopped at a small pond just off the dusty, rutted track they’d been following for the last two hours. The sight of the little brown pool had instantly centered Benny’s misery on her parched mouth and throat. Water. Blessed gift of a good God.

She unbuckled the saddle pack, keeping a wary eye on Sunflower’s broad hindquarters. She extracted a couple of bottles of water they’d brought from the plane and the burritos Mariela had sent. Owen ground-tied the mule, letting it graze on the weeds at the edge of the pond.

Benny handed Owen a bottle of water, smiling when he twisted off the cap and glugged it down in one long swallow.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Wish we didn’t have to leave the other two cases back in the plane.”

“I know, but Gustavo and Mariela will enjoy it. We owed them a little something for their trouble.”