eyebrow but said nothing.
Aaron paused, then nodded once. But his smile widened. “This way, Doctor Haddad.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you properly,” Aaron said when Sandra and Booker joined him. They walked toward the far side of the village. “You’ve quite a reputation in this part of the country, Doctor.”
Surprised, she glanced up at him. “Reputation?”
“Delivering medical supplies, clothes and food to some of the smaller villages. Of course, you’re using the Al Asheera, who are my competitors. For the supplies that aren’t quite available through more legitimate distributors, I mean.”
She ignored Booker’s scowl. “You deal in the black market?”
“Among other things,” Aaron mused. He led them into a nearby building. The only one, Sandra noted, that had four solid walls and an actual roof.
“It isn’t much, but it’s home.”
It was a sparsely furnished room, no more than ten feet square. A battered desk and chair at one end, a cot at the other. A table and three more chairs in the middle.
Aaron sat down behind his desk and lifted his leg up on a nearby stool.
“I don’t have much to offer except maybe some lukewarm coffee.” He nodded to a potbellied stove in the corner. On its burner sat a blackened teakettle. “You are welcome to it and whatever else I have at hand.”
He gestured to the small wooden table nearby. Some sweetened bread, fruit and cheese filled two plates.
Sandra’s stomach growled. She sat in one of the straight-back chairs and sliced a thick piece of the bread, then offered it to Booker.
He shook his head.
“Maybe the doctor would like a change of clothes and somewhere to wash up?” Aaron commented.
“I might.” Sandra took a bite of the bread, enjoying the traditional spicy sweetness, even as her eyes remained on the two men. “After I hear how you two know each other.”
“Aaron worked at the drilling site for a while,” Booker admitted.
“Until I hurt my leg in a rigging accident,” Aaron commented. “And realized I preferred desert living to drilling. So I got into supply and demand. Booker and I exchange favors from time to time.”
“A necessary relationship. But not always a trusting one,” Booker quipped.
Aaron leaned back in his chair, a small smile on his lips, one that didn’t quite reach the black of his eyes. “Almost like the two of you, I suspect.”
“I doubt it,” Sandra scoffed, then remembered the shared kiss in the car. She stood, suddenly needing time alone to think things through. She’d let them hash out the car situation. “Would you have any clean clothes I could add to his tab of favors?”
“Of course,” Aaron replied, a grin on his face. “Any friend of Booker’s...”
Chapter Five
Aaron found a change of clothes for both Sandra and Booker.
The men stepped outside the mercantile to give her privacy. Without warning, Booker shoved Aaron back against the wall and gripped his throat.
“I want to know how you found out about Trygg’s plan to kidnap the doc.”
“I hear things,” Aaron gasped, but he didn’t move. “It goes with my occupation. A friend of a friend of a friend. Someone overhearing a conversation. Sometimes, even as pillow talk.”
Booker’s grip tightened. “Who told you?”
“One of the mercenaries who took her.”
“Why tell me?”
“You think I’d stand by while Trygg kills innocents?” Aaron snapped back. “Killing women and children is not my style. And that goes for your woman. I didn’t lie when I said she’s got a lot of support from the locals around here. She helped a lot of people, McKnight. Most who’d given up hope for a better life. Any kind of life.”
Booker studied his face, then slowly released his grip and stepped back. “She isn’t my woman.”
“Sure, she isn’t. And this isn’t a windpipe you almost crushed.” Aaron rubbed his throat for a moment. “Number-one rule. Don’t make it personal.”
“Like you haven’t?” He glanced around. “Seems to me, the doc isn’t the only one providing shelter and food around here.”
Aaron reached into his shirt pocket, withdrew a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He flipped the lighter open, held the cigarette to the flame, then snapped it shut.
“I met Trygg once in Leavenworth while doing my time, right after he’d been incarcerated,” Aaron acknowledged, then took a long drag on the cigarette. “Trygg isn’t a sane man. And those following him are fanatically loyal.”
“Sometimes it’s loyalty.” Booker turned on his heel and headed for the well in the middle of the settlement. “And sometimes it just takes putting the right amount of money in the right hands.”
Aaron fell