Ian stared at me, eyes wide. “I-I just meant...I meant that, uh, that I also wanted to sleep with you.”

I laughed out loud.

“I mean, not with you but sleep in my own bed during the time in which you also sleep...in your bed. We’d be asleep in two separate beds. You in yours and me in mine.” One of his hands left the steering wheel and ran the length of his face. “God, I’m deprived.” A quick glance my way. “Of sleep! Deprived of sleep!” His hand slapped the wheel. “God, shut up, Din.”

I smiled at him softly. “I got you, Ian.” Boy, do I ever.

It’s not surprising I slept most of the way to Kampala. We arrived shortly before the plane was scheduled to land and rushed into the airport.

“Does this bring back memories?” I asked Ian.

He smiled. “It certainly does.”

“You hated me.”

“I definitely did not hate you.”

“Oh, just admit it. You kind of did.”

“I didn’t think you were worth Masego’s time.”

“Ouch. I guess I kind of deserved that.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I made a rash judgment. It also didn’t help you were so goddamn beautiful.”

My breath sucked into my lungs and I couldn't think to respond, so I let him grab my hand and lead me through to the tarmac just as our plane descended. I felt a weight lift from my shoulders when the tires touched down. Our hands broke and we rushed the cargo plane. I didn’t want to think what it cost to arrange for that. When the hatch lowered and the deck collapsed, tears spilled down my face.

Pembrook, dressed in the most ridiculously hilarious outfit I’d ever seen him in, jeans and a flipping t-shirt, struck ground. The same ground I stood on, Pembrook stood upon and I felt like a little piece of home had followed him. I may not have had the best home life, but it was all I had ever known before Uganda. I was well-traveled, yes, but they aren’t lying when they say home is where the heart is.

My cheeks flushed as I turned toward Ian who approached Pembrook as I stood mute a few feet behind. He was my new home. Ian was home. Butterflies rushed throughout my entire body and my hands clenched the shirt that lay at my stomach. Oh my God.

Pembrook waved my direction and approached me. I met him halfway and yelled over the deafening engines. “Pemmy! I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Neither did I, but I thought I’d take a few days off and check on you. Report back to your father that you’re still alive.”

“Thank you, Pemmy, but we both know my father doesn’t care how I am.”

“That’s not....” he began, but I cut him off.

“I’m still glad you came.”

He smiled warmly and hugged me hello. I realized then that Pembrook was my family. “It’s good to see you too, Sophie,” he said, patting my back. He pulled me from his arms and examined me. “You look...well, not dead.”

Ian and I both laughed. “We’ve been up caring for ill children, Pembrook, cut me some slack, will ya?” I teased. He watched me for a moment as if he wasn’t sure if it was me or not and that made me laugh harder.

He cleared his throat. “Yes, yes. It’s why I’m here. Follow me,” he ordered and marched up the hatch into the hull of the plane. “I took the liberty of getting as much as I could think to replenish what supplies you’ve already used as well as for future use.”

My eyes took in the boxes and boxes of saline, different meds, needles, sterile gloves, etc. and I almost cried. I lovingly ran my hand across the top of the saline boxes. “I’m so grateful.”

“For what? You asked. You’re my, ahem, employer and I complied.”

I turned and rolled my eyes at him. “Thank you anyway, employee Pembrook. You went above and beyond the job requirement.”

He smiled in answer.

“I’m going to see if I can get permission to bring Charles’ truck around. Be right back,” Ian said.

I watched Ian walk away and continued to watch him until I could no longer see him.

Pemmy cleared his throat, snapping me away from my stare. I turned to him.

“Are you happy?” he asked simply.

“I am,” I answered without hesitation, startling even myself with how easy it was to admit it.

Suddenly an idea took hold. Christmas. It was only six weeks away. It was going to be my first warm Christmas. My family had always flown to Switzerland for the holiday for no other reason other than my mother’s friends vacationed there together.

“Listen, before Ian returns.”

“Ian?” he asked, amused.

I waved him off. “Dingane, whatever.” But paused, an overwhelming need to defend him bubbled forth. “His name is Ian, you know.”

“Is it?” he asked, stupefied.

I felt my face warm. “Yes, anyway, before he comes back, I need to arrange to have a plane return here in a few weeks time. Can we make that happen? You’re a signer on my account. You can use my private funds if my dad won’t let you otherwise.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” he said, bemused. “Your father has given me carte blanche to give you whatever you need.”

“Honestly?”

“Yes, Sophie. What do you need?”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “A generator, first and foremost. For God’s sake, a flipping generator big enough to run an orphanage for weeks at a time. Something substantial as well as the necessary hands to install it.” I ticked hundreds of things off my mental list, a list I didn’t even know I’d been keeping mindful of. Huh. I snapped my fingers. “You know what? I’d also like you to arrange for a construction company to rebuild the main house with an up-to-date kitchen, big enough to prepare meals for at least a hundred children, bring the supplies as well as the hands from America.”

My imagination was running wild. Pembrook had filled pages of the little pad he’d been writing my demands in. He occasionally shook his hand out, but I kept going, afraid I’d forget it once it slipped from my tongue. I imagined a much better Masego by the time I would have to leave.

Have to leave.

I’d forgotten. I was going to be leaving Masego in a few short weeks. I had two months left. That was all. A feeling of dread filled me.

“And I’d like boxes of shoes,” I mentioned frantically, “more than they’ll need, enough to fill a room with, including clothing, smocks for the girls, uniforms for the boys, varying sizes. Call TOMS Shoes in Dallas, let him know what you’re doing, they’ll help.”

I chewed my thumbnail, something I never did. I would tell Pembrook all the time how it ruined a girl’s nails and only trash did it. I noticed him regard me and I pulled it from my mouth.

“Is-is that all?” he asked, obviously stunned.

“Toys. Wrapped. For some reason, the only thing the girls here like to play is house. So lots of that crap. The boys can think of nothing but soccer. Make sure we get them before Christmas. Is two weeks prior sufficient?”

“Yes.”

It got silent as I continued to pace the width of the plane. I looked up and noticed Pembrook’s mouth gaping.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said, examining his lengthy list, but I knew him well enough to recognize I’d astonished him. I felt a slight pang in my chest that I could have possibly made him proud.

I heard Charles’ truck rumble near the hatch of the plane and I turned to Pembrook. “Not a word, cool?”

He nodded in acknowledgement.

Ian and I helped the crew load everything Pembrook had brought and when it was as full I’d ever seen it, Pembrook hugged me tightly. “Give Charles and Karina my love?”

I nodded, afraid if I said anything I’d cry. Pembrook shook Ian’s hand and we watched him disappear behind the rising hatch. “He loves you,” Ian said.

A tear slipped free. “I know.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Apparently, four more children had gotten ill during the nine hours we’d been away when we arrived around five in the morning. When all I had been thinking about was sleep, Karina approached us both with two giant cups of coffee. I selfishly cringed but quickly scolded myself. We all unloaded the supplies and readied to inoculate all the children.

We administered vaccines to all the adults then sent them on their way to set up stations at all three quarantines. I secreted one off to Mandisa and stuck her as soon as I possibly could. I wanted her to get better immediately. Selfish, I know, to put her before any of the other children, but I felt like Mandisa was mine. I can honestly say I didn’t regret it.

After each child received their shot, we replaced empty saline bags and treated fevers just as the sun was rising.

“That’s almost twenty-four hours straight without sleep,” Ian sleepily said, stumbling toward me in Charles and Karina’s cabin. He fumbled across the sofa I was strewn across and laid next to me, his eyes closing quickly.

“Careful, Aberdeen,” I lazily drawled, a secret smile gracing my lips.

He grinned, his lids still seemingly fused. He knew exactly what I’d meant. “I will,” he promised around gleamingly white teeth, throwing an arm over my shoulders. The smile slowly slipped from his lips and his breathing deepened and steadied. Then it was my turn, though I’m sure my smiled stayed.

Around two in the afternoon, I woke to children’s laughter and a heavy arm laid across my back. I peeled open one lid and faced the back of the couch. I quickly shut them, my nose scrunched together in an effort to keep them closed, and listened for a moment.

“What are they doing?” I heard Mandisa ask someone.

“They’re sleeping, Mandisa, leave them be,” Karina answered. Her voice was lighter and I breathed a sigh of relief. I could tell the vaccines were working because Mandisa was lucid. My heart soared.

“He will bury her,” she offered.

“He will not,” Karina said, giggling. She was in the kitchen, stirring something in a metal pot. I could hear the gentle rhythm of the spoon scrape the bottom back and forth.

“He will. He is too big. He is going to kill her.”

“Mandisa,” Karina playfully admonished.

“We get him off her.”

“Mandisa, come over here and sit on this chair,” Karina ordered.

“I can’t leave. I have to watch he does not cut off her air.”

“I have crayons,” Karina tempted.

I heard hesitant little feet walk to the table. She began coloring and I could hear each individual stroke against the wood tabletop.

“They are married?” Mandisa asked after a few minutes. I was forced to bite my lip to keep from bursting out in laughter.

“No,” Karina answered.

“But his hand is on her back.”

“I’m sure it was an accident, Mandisa. He wasn’t trying to be disrespectful to her. They were probably very, very tired from caring for you and your brothers and sisters last night.”

“It is okay this time then,” Mandisa concluded.

“Yes, because it was an accident,” Karina said, though a bit too loudly.