Loving Katrina

Twenty

Katrina assisted Carlos and the other men in erecting tents. Often she glanced toward Felix and his cannibal friends, hoping what Felix said was right. Her stomach couldn't settle until she knew these Indians wouldn't have them for their main meal tonight. A shiver ran through her, but she shrugged it off, going back to setting up her tent.

She was also bothered by her knowledge of the dart. If these Indians didn't shoot Felix with a poisonous dart, then who did she need to watch out for?

Felix and his friends were entrapped in a serious conversation. His creased forehead and his frown let her know he was greatly disturbed. Yet, just a moment ago he said something to make the other two men laugh. Now it appeared they were drawing something in the dirt. She hoped it was a map to her father's plantation.

She sat inside her tent, admiring how well she was able to put this contraption together. The men only had to show her once how to erect it, and she was able to do it by herself. Although she was tired of being in the jungle, she wasn't exactly looking forward to meeting her father, either. So right now, the jungle was her preferred choice.

Ever since she could remember, she had always resented Henry Landon. All around her, children her age were growing up with both a mother and a father. Not her. She hadn't even met the man who had ignored her mother's pleas for help when Katrina was a young girl. If it hadn't been for the townspeople taking pity on them, Katrina and her mother would have died of starvation. So how on earth could she forgive the man who did nothing to help raise his child?

She dug inside her pack for her canteen and quickly took a sip. The anger inside of her made her hotter than the jungle's humidity. She rubbed her forehead. The combination wasn't good for her headache, either.

How would she act when she met her father for the first time? Would she slug him in the face with her fist? Would she just glare at him? Or should she call him unforgivable names? Something deep inside made her want to lash out at the old fool—whether he was dying or not. He couldn't treat her as he had and expect her to run into his open arms and suddenly want to be his daughter. And if he did, he was an imbecile.

Then again, what if he wasn't as she expected? She had been preparing herself to be disappointed so he couldn't hurt her any more. But what if he wasn't the man she thought he'd be?

Off in the distance, the echo of a growling jaguar rang through the air. Her heart dropped. The cat sounded closer than before.

She scrambled on her knees to the tent's opening and peered out. The men held machetes and pistols as they scanned the foliage and trees. Even Felix and his Indian friends were standing, alert to the jungle's largest feline.

"It's still too far away," Felix said loudly. "But I want everyone on guard."

The Indian duo said something to Felix before turning and leaving camp. Felix's gaze landed on Katrina, and he strode her way. When he reached the tent, he knelt to her level.

"No need to fear, my dear Katrina. Our Turri friends will also search for the jaguar. I believe all will be well."

Her heart flipped, hearing her given name on his lips once more instead of the proper, Miss Landon. "I hope so." She sighed and tried to smile through her worry. "Did your friends tell you how to get to my father's plantation?"

"Yes. I know the way now. We should be there within three days."

"That's good," she said, even though she still wasn't sure if it was good or not. "And thank you for doing your best to protect me. You don't know how grateful I am."