The Most Beautiful Girl in Cuba - Chanel Cleeton Page 0,68

else looking out for me is entirely welcome.

“If for some reason you do need to escape,” Carlos adds, “I have rented the house next door. We’ve broken the windows between the two houses in case you have to climb between them.”

I smile in amazement. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

“Not everything. I must confess, we were quite stymied on how to get you out of Recogidas. I can’t tell you the relief we all felt when we saw your careful instructions. And the diagrams.” He laughs. “I think we all fell a bit in love with you then. Decker, certainly.”

My cheeks heat at the casual way in which he says the word “love” and the gleam in his eyes.

“I have had a great deal of time to contemplate escape.”

His expression darkens. “Yes, I imagine you have.”

“Why did you help rescue me?”

I am used to fighting for myself, for the dreams of an independent Cuba that I and others around me believe in, but I am shocked by their willingness to risk so much for someone they have never met.

“Because it was the right thing to do. It is difficult to live in these times and not feel helpless. I am fortunate that my wealth has kept me somewhat protected, but we all have a responsibility to do something when called to it. I love my country. This was my attempt at serving her in the manner I knew best.” His expression gentles. “And how could I not? I saw you in Recogidas. I went by one day, and while I didn’t want to raise suspicions by formally requesting to meet with you, I had heard talk that you were there, and I wanted to see the woman who had spurred the Spanish myself. Maybe I fell in love with you myself that day,” he says, his tone and expression suggesting he is in jest, although I can’t deny the warmth that fills me at his attention.

“Thank you for all of your help. I don’t know what I would have done without you. For you to risk your life like this—”

“It is no risk. It is my pleasure to do what I can to right the injustice that has been done to you.”

Expressing my gratitude seems hollow, no words I can offer enough for the magnitude of what he has done for me. How do you properly show your appreciation for someone who saves your life?

* * *

—

We spend most of our waking moments together while we wait for the ship that is to carry me from Cuba. Carlos is an excellent host—solicitous and considerate—and I am fascinated by the stories he tells of his career in banking, his American friends, the years he spent studying in the United States. I absorb his every word as he speaks of the country that is to be my new temporary home, as he gives me advice on acclimating to my life there. More than anything, I am drawn to how he listens, the interest he takes in me. I tell him about my sisters, my life before my father was arrested. Berriz is the subject we avoid, and we both dance around my time in Recogidas as though through some silent agreement to ban all unpleasantness from this sanctuary we have created.

Every so often, he excuses himself to go check on details for my eventual escape, and I find that I miss his company even during the short intervals when he is gone.

“I brought you some clothes to wear,” Carlos announces as he enters my room Saturday evening. “This will go much easier if you are dressed as a boy.”

“They’re still out there looking for me, aren’t they?”

He nods.

I doubt they’ll give up until they’ve recaptured me.

Carlos’s presence has done much to distract me from the danger of my situation, but he hasn’t been able to fully eradicate the fear inside me.

“What if they catch me?”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“I can’t go back there. I’d rather die.”

I don’t regret the choices I’ve made so far, or the fact that I never recanted my story about Berriz, but now that I know what awaits me in prison, now that I’ve tasted even this small amount of freedom, I know with every part of my soul that I would choose death over returning to that hell.

Carlos reaches out and takes my hand, lacing his fingers through mine, squeezing gently. “I know. I promise you. I won’t let anything happen to you. I will do everything