Free Flame of Diablo by Sara Craven Page B

a wash, above all, and then she
    might even feel able to face another
    helping of tinned stew and rice pudding.
    Or perhaps they might be offered
    something a little more appetising by the
    people at the finca, she told herself
    hopefully, digging her heels into her
    horse's side.
    The trees thinned, and her spirits rose
    mercurially. Her horse's rather ambling
    gait quickened too as if he was also
    aware that it was nearing the end of the
    day and rest awaited them.
    It all made the disappointment so much
    more acute when she emerged from the
    trees and found that they were on the
    bank of a river, its waters a dingy brown
    and moving sluggishly but in little eddies
    which suggested deep and hidden
    currents. And that was all—no shelter,
    no
    cabana, not so much as a
    tumbledown shack. Rachel looked
    around her and saw that Carlos had
    already dismounted, and was taking the
    saddle from his horse.
    She rode slowly towards him. 'What is
    this place?' she demanded.
    Carlos shrugged rather evasively. 'Is just
    a
    place,
    senorita,'
    he
    returned,
    obviously trying to sound reassuring. 'It
    get dark soon, so we stay here.'
    'Here?' Rachel was frankly horrified and
    made no attempt to disguise her feelings.
    'But you said there would be forestry
    service places—and fincas. There's
    nothing here at all!'
    Carlos' round face was suddenly less
    good-humoured. 'There are such places,
    but it will take too long to reach them.
    We need to build a fire—it will be dark
    soon. Tonight we stay in the tent I have
    brought.'
    'A tent?' Rachel echoed helplessly.
    Nothing had been said by either of them
    about a tent. And it certainly couldn't be
    a large one if Carlos had brought it on
    the packs his own horse was carrying.
    An odd feeling of distaste swept over
    her as she visualised the prospect of
    having to share any kind of tent, large or
    small, with Carlos in the middle of this
    wilderness.
    She moistened her lips. 'Nevertheless, I
    think I'd prefer to press on,' she said
    levelly. 'I find this sort of country a little
    wild for camping out in.'
    Carlos gave her a sullen look. 'That is
    too bad, senorita. It is far to the nearest
    finca. We should not reach it before
    morning.'
    Rachel felt her heart sink, but her
    training came to her rescue and she
    managed to maintain her cool facade. It
    suddenly seemed important not to let
    Carlos know her inward alarm. Besides,
    her imagination was playing tricks with
    her again, she assured herself. It was this
    place—the approach of night and the
    darkness of the encircling forest. The
    sinister swirl of the brown water. It was
    —getting to her. Carlos was just an
    inoffensive
    little
    man
    who
    had-
    miscalculated, that was all. Probably she
    should have made it clear to him back in
    Asuncion that any form of camping was
    out as far as she was concerned. If their
    departure hadn't been so hurried at her
    insistence, she could have paid more
    attention to their actual means of travel,
    got it all sorted out to her satisfaction
    before they ever set out, but she had
    allowed her impatience to find Mark to
    get the better of her.
    As if he sensed her inner hesitation,
    Carlos said eagerly, 'This is a good
    place, senorita. Better we stay here. I
    make a fire.' His smile was ingratiating.
    'You may have the tent, senorita.'
    Rachel bit her lip. He seemed to have
    assessed with fair accuracy the root of
    her uncertainty, and succeeded in making
    her feel foolish. She gave a slight shrug
    and slid out of the saddle.
    Carlos was as good as his word. It was
    only a tiny tent and soon erected, and
    before long he had a fire going too, and a
    can of water coming to the boil on it.
    The sun had almost vanished by now,
    leaving a resplendent sky to mark its
    passing, and a definite chill in the air.
    Rachel was glad of the blanket Carlos
    passed her, and she held it round her
    shoulders as she sipped at her mug of
    black coffee. The sticks crackling on the
    fire and the little darting flames had