Free Out of the Shadows by Melanie Mitchell Page B

you’ll feel much better. I promise.”
    Leslie considered that the more she drank, the less would be available for him, so she grabbed the bottle and unscrewed the cap. Bracing herself, she took a gulp and immediately choked on the contents. She coughed repeatedly, and tears filled her eyes. Despite the noise of the plane’s engine, she heard him chuckle.
    “I’ve never seen anyone react quite that way to sweet tea.”
    Trying to clear her throat, she took another sip. When she could speak again she asked, “You mean this stuff has never been anything but tea?”
    “Did you actually think I would drink and fly?”
    “You know I did! And you said nothing to make me think any differently!” She crossed her arms and glared at him, “I can’t believe you wanted me to think you were drinking!”
    “Let me get this straight. You were mad because you thought I was drinking, but now you’re mad because I wasn’t? ”
    “Yes! I mean, no! I mean...oh, never mind.” She took another drink, and the irony of the incident suddenly hit her. She began to giggle. The tension of the day abruptly eased, and she laughed out loud. She glanced back at Ben and shook her head. “You know,” she managed to say, “I really hate to admit it, but you were right. I feel much better now.”
    The glint in his normally piercing green eyes softened, and his reluctant smile was genuine. “You should laugh more.”
    He held her gaze for a few seconds, then stopped smiling. “Leslie, contrary to village rumor and popular belief, I don’t have a death wish. Although I hesitate to use the word never, I would never fly under the influence of alcohol. Please rest assured.”
    Leslie knew he was attempting to make her feel safer. Despite her original misgivings, her opinion of him rose a little. She tried to think through this revelation. She hadn’t been the only one to see him “drinking,” and he hadn’t done anything to disabuse others of the notion. Why would he put up that kind of facade? Obviously he went to considerable lengths to have people think the worst of him.
    They continued the flight in silence, and she studied him surreptitiously. As usual, his long hair was held back from his face in a neat ponytail. No doubt it was much neater than hers just now. His white cotton shirt was considerably sweat stained from waiting for her in the sweltering heat and then talking with the officials. Likewise, his khaki pants were dusty from the events of the day, but had probably been freshly laundered when he donned them that morning. Growing progressively less discreet in her observations, she noticed his hands. The nails were well trimmed, and there was no hint of the inevitable grease and dirt often associated with aircraft mechanics or men living in the African bush.
    There was no doubt that Mama Joe and Paul and Judy were comfortable with Ben and even respected him. She had been troubled trying to understand why—but now she was starting to see.
    * * *
    A S THE FLIGHT CONTINUED , Ben was lost in his thoughts. His opinion of Leslie had also shifted during the afternoon. Through the high windows and frequently opened door of the mud hut, he had remained attentive as she cared for the young woman in labor. Her words were authoritative without being judgmental. She had not scolded the young mother or her attendants; nor had she acted condescendingly. She couldn’t change generations of tradition in an afternoon, but there were things she tried to do to improve the health of the people, and he respected her for it. She understood that centuries of tradition, superstition and misinformation had left the villagers extremely vulnerable. She knew there were some things that could not be changed and some that did not need changing. She just wanted to help.
    She hadn’t commented on the heat and the dust, and she didn’t utter a word of complaint. Nor had she asked him for anything. He knew she was uncomfortable with him, and, rather than