Page 42 of Cutter’s Lady

“You brought it!” she exclaimed delightedly, hugging him. “You’re amazing! Wait tell I tell Larry.”

“Tell Larry what?” A short, bearded man entered the room through the door leading into the rest of the building. He wore the thin pants and embroidered cotton shirt that was favored by most of the men Leslie had seen in San Cristóbal. Yet he was also obviously American. “Cutter! Hey, great, we weren’t expecting you so soon.”

“Larry, he brought you the X-ray machine.”

Larry’s face lit up. “You’re joking! Where is it? I’ve got to inspect it and set it up, ASAP.” He hurried out of the room after the worker.

An X-ray machine? That was in Cutter’s cargo? Leslie was wondering more about the cargo every minute. Cutter had said it wasn’t guns, and she didn’t think it was likely that Cutter was supplying hard drugs to a mission for injured children. Perhaps none of Cutter’s goods had ever been illicit like Avery had guessed; maybe it was all medical supplies? But why wouldn’t he have told her that? Why had he taken such pains to hide it from the army?

Cutter finally pulled free from the children and picked up a plate of food. He plopped down at Leslie’s table to eat just as an older woman bustled in from outdoors. She glanced around, spotted Cutter and hurried over to their table. She was middle-aged and dress in sensible white shoes and a plain white dress. A wimple was on her head and a black-beaded rosary was tucked into her belt, cross dangling.

“Cutter! I’m so excited.” She down beside him and took his hand, squeezing it. Tears glimmered in her eyes. “The books. You got the books. And in Spanish! How’d you do it?”

Cutter smiled. “Negotiated with a bilingual school system in south Texas. They’d bought a new set of texts this year.”

“You don’t know how I appreciate this. You are truly a gift from God.”

Leslie would have sworn that Cutter actually blushed. “Now, Sister Catherine…”

The woman glanced over at Leslie and gave her a happy smile. “Hello. I’m Sister Catherine. I’m the teacher here. You came with Cutter?”

“Yes. I’m Leslie Harper.”

“Sister Mary Margaret said Cutter had brought someone with him. It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Sister Mary Margaret?” Leslie repeated.

“Yes. The one who met you when you first arrived. She runs the mission.”

“Mary? You mean Mary is a nun?” Leslie stared. The lovely young woman who had hugged Cutter had taken a vow of chastity. The idea immediately picked up Leslie’s spirits. “But she wasn’t—I mean—” Leslie gestured vaguely toward the other woman’s head.

“She doesn’t wear a veil?” Sister Catherine supplied. “Most nuns don’t anymore. I find it gives me more authority with the children, but the women who work in the hospital don’t.”

“Is this a children’s hospital?” Leslie asked.

The older woman looked a little surprised. “Didn’t Cutter tell you?”

Leslie shot a glare toward Cutter. “No. He just said we were delivering some ‘cargo’ here.”

Sister Catherine smiled. “Cutter is so modest. Some ‘cargo,’ indeed. He flies in supplies, medicine, clothes, dried and canned foods, school materials—well, just about everything we get from the U.S. He’s been helping us for ages now, ever since Sister Mary Margaret set up Dolorosa—that’s the mission, ‘Our Lady of Sorrows.’ We call it Dolorosa, for short.”

“You take care of orphans here?”

“Whoever needs us. It’s primarily a medical mission. Larry is our doctor. The children come in wounded from the fighting. Army raids. Bombings.” She shook her head and sighed. “It’s always the children who suffer most. Quite a few women come here with them. Often their husbands have been arrested or killed or have joined the fighters.” She shrugged. “So they come here to live. We’ve built up quite a little community. We’re even farming now. Did you see the fields out there?”

Leslie nodded. “And you teach them.”

“Yes.” Sister Catherine beamed. “Now I can teach them so much better with the new books Cutter brought in.” She reached over and patted Cutter’s arm.

Leslie frowned. She felt first very stupid and then very petty. All that time she’d been pissed at Cutter about endangering her project with his cargo, he had been carrying much-needed medical and school supplies for a group of children! She must have seemed so self-centered. But immediately upon that thought came another. Cutter knew what she had assumed about his cargo. Why hadn’t he set her straight? Why hadn’t he told her what he carried instead of letting her carry on about it? It occurred to Leslie that Cutter had been enjoying himself at her expense, looking forward to her embarrassment when she found out the truth. Anger began to heat up in her, and she turned to Cutter.

But before she could say anything she remembered Sister Catherine’s presence. She couldn’t blast him in front of a nun. About the time Sister Catherine left, Sister Mary Margaret returned, carrying a stack of sheets and towels topped by a bar of soap.

“Are you trying to tell me something?” Cutter looked pointedly at the soap and up at Mary with a joking grin on his face.

“Perpetually.” Mary winked and flashed her brilliant smile at him.

“Thanks.” Cutter rose and took the items, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. Unexpectedly, jealousy slashed through Leslie again. Cutter had never handled Leslie so gently.