drinking a dark gold liquid in thick glasses. Whitney caught the scent of something unidentifiable and wonderful drifting through an open door in the back.
“Fish stew,” Doug murmured as his stomach yearned. “Something close to bouillabaisse with a touch of— rosemary,” he said, closing his eyes. “And a little garlic.”
Because her mouth watered, Whitney was forced to swallow. “It sounds like lunch to me.”
A woman came through the door, wiping her hands on a big white apron that was colored like a parade flag from her cooking. Though her face was creased deeply, and her hands showed work as well as age, she wore her hair in gay braided rings like a young girl. She scanned Whitney and Doug, looked at the pig for only a moment, then spoke in quick, heavily accented English. So much for Doug’s disguises.
“You wish a room?”
“Please.” Struggling to keep her eyes from drifting beyond the woman to the doorway where scents poured out, Whitney smiled.
“My wife and I would like a room for the night, a bath, and a meal.”
“For two?” the woman said, then looked again at the pig. “Or for three?”
“I found the little pig wandering on the side of the road,” Whitney improvised. “I didn’t like to leave it. Perhaps you know someone who’d care for it.”
The woman eyed the pig in a way that had Whitney hugging it tighter. Then she smiled. “My grandson will take care of it. He is six, but he is responsible.” The woman held out her arms, and reluctantly Whitney handed her erstwhile pet over. Hefting the pig under one arm, the woman reached in her pocket for keys. “This room is ready, up the stairs and two doors on the right. You are welcome.”
Whitney watched her go back into the kitchen with the pig under her arm.
“Now, now, sugar, every mother has to let her children go one day.”
She sniffed and started for the stairs. “He better not be on the menu tonight.”
The room was a great deal smaller than the cave they’d slept in. But it had a few cheerful seaside paintings on the wall and a bed covered in a flashy floral print that had been meticulously patched. The bath was no more than an alcove separated from the bedroom by a bamboo screen.
“Heaven,” Whitney decided after one look and flopped facedown on the bed. It smelled, only lightly, of fish.
“I don’t know how celestial it is”—he checked the lock on the door and found it sturdy—“but it’ll do until the real thing comes along.”
“I’m going to crawl into the tub and wallow for hours.”
“All right, you take the first shift.” Without ceremony, he dumped the baskets on the floor. “I’m going to do a little checking around and see what kind of transportation we can get heading up the coast.”
“I’d prefer a nice, stately Mercedes.” Sighing, she pillowed her head on her hands. “But I’d settle for a wagon and a three-legged pony.”
“Maybe I can find something in between.” Taking no chances, he pulled the envelope out of his pack and secured it under the back of his shirt. “Don’t use all the hot water, sugar. I’ll be back.”
“Be sure to check on room service, won’t you? I hate it when the canapés are late.” Whitney heard the door click shut and stretched luxuriously. As much as she’d like just to sleep, she decided, she wanted a bath more.
Rising, she stripped off the long cotton dress and let it fall in a heap. “My sympathies to your former owner,” she murmured, then threw the straw hat like a Frisbee across the room. Over her naked skin, her hair cascaded like sunlight. Cheerful, she turned the hot tap on full and searched through her pack for her cache of bath oil and bubbles. In ten minutes, she was steeped in steaming, fragrant, frothy water.
“Heaven,” she said again and shut her eyes.
Outside, Doug took in the town quickly. There were a few little shops with handicrafts arranged in the windows. Colorful hammocks hung on hooks from porch rails and a row of shark’s teeth were lined on a stoop. Obviously, the people were accustomed to tourists and their odd penchant for the useless. The scent of fish was strong as he wandered down toward the wharf. There, he admired the boats, the coils of rope, and the nets spread out to dry.
If he could figure out a way to keep some fish on ice, he’d bargain for it. Miracles could be accomplished with