Chloe

It's been just over a week since we started digging, and the ditches are pretty much done. They encircle the orphanage like a moat and feed into the stream that runs along the fence surrounding Dom Gustavo's property. All that's left is to reinforce it all with the wooden stakes Rider has spent most of the morning chopping up. I told him to go rest once he was done, telling him he earned it, and that we'd finish up.

I just took a shower and am trying to find a dress to wear for when I go wake him from his nap. All my nice dresses are still packed up in the suitcases I came here with, which are somewhere in Dom Gustavo's house and have been since I arrived. But I do have a few beach dresses in my bungalow, and they'll have to do. It still takes me awhile to find one that's not all bleached from the sun and the rough soap we use for washing clothes. Its stripes are still mostly red and white.

But Rider isn't at his bungalow, nor in the cafeteria where Ed is eating his dinner alone, looking very grim.

"Have you seen Rider?" I ask anyway.

Me and Ed haven't really spoken much this last week, since my days were taken up by the digging, trying to keep up with the children's lessons, and my nights belonged solely to Rider.

"I think he's working on his bike down at the garage," Ed says. "He's probably leaving soon, now that the ditches are completed."

My heart cramps up in my chest at the thought, then starts beating very fast. Rider leaving has been in the back of my mind for the last few days, but I wouldn't let myself think about it. Nor could I bring myself to ask him what his plans were. For the first time in more than four years, I feel happy, light, the way I used to before the viral sex tapes, which took all that away from me. Once again, I feel like everything is gonna be alright, and no problem or challenge is too big to overcome.

Rider has given that back to me. With the way he holds and kisses me, the way he looks at me, and the way he makes love to me like I truly was put on this earth just for him, to be his jungle princess, his ray of sunshine. I think I'm in love with him, but it's hard to be sure, because I've never felt such passion, desire and overwhelming urge to be with someone, as I do for him. I can't picture this place with him gone, or my life without him in it. I don't want to picture it.

"He's not going to stay, you do realize that, don't you?" Ed asks harshly. "I'm pretty sure he's on the run from something bad."

"Why would you even assume that?" I ask, equally harshly.

"Well, just look at him, for one thing. That's not an innocent man under all those tattoos and muscles."

"OK, Ed, thank you for that assessment," I say and leave the room.

"Just ask him, and you'll see I'm right," he calls after me, but I ignore him.

Rider is at the garage working on his bike, but Diego, Pedro, and even shy little Kaia are there helping him. I stop a few paces from them before they see me to watch him explain what he's doing with the bike. Even Kaia is asking him questions, then listening intently to his answers. She's had a hard life, been sexually abused for years before she got here and she's only twelve years old. Even after two years of being here, she still doesn’t want to be alone with Ed. But she's talking and laughing with Rider like she's known him all her life. Whatever bad things he may or may not have done in his past, he's a good man with a kind and generous heart, and nothing will ever convince me otherwise.

But he has been working on his bike a lot these last few days and the ditches are done. He's probably preparing to leave, and I have no idea how to even begin facing that. He's given me no promises, and we haven't spoken of any kind of future together, which is probably because he never planned what we had to be more than a little fun on his way to wherever he's heading.

"So, who wants a ride?" he asks loudly, tossing the screwdriver he was using into the toolbox at his feet.

All three children raise their hands, nodding their heads excitedly as each pleads to be his first passenger.

"I do!" I say louder than the rest.

Rider turns to look at me, his gaze swallowing me up as I approach. There's no hint of an imminent departure in his eyes, and even the lust isn't as pronounced as it was in the beginning. But the loving desire in them is just as cutting, hooks me somewhere just below my bellybutton, and won't let go until I'm in his arms and we're alone. There are promises in his look too. But maybe those are just a figment of my imagination, just something I want to see.

He pulls me into his arms when I reach him, gives me a deep, long and slow kiss, which holds promises too. But we're driven apart by the giggles and "ewws" from the kids.

"Alright, you rascals," he says. "You each get one ride up to the main road and back. After that, it's Chloe's turn for the rest of the night, and you're going to sleep."

He winks at me, as the kids start complaining about me getting the whole night.

Kaia comes over and holds my hand while Rider is busy explaining to Pedro how he should sit on the back of the bike.

"You will be back, won't you?" she asks me in Portuguese.

"Yes, of course," I answer.

"And you will stay with us?" I suppose she's asking this because so many of the volunteers left after Gustavo died.

"I will never leave you," I say and squeeze her hand reassuringly.

"And Rider, he will stay too?" she asks.

"I hope so," I say, since it's my policy never to lie to the children.

"Me too," Kaia says.

"Me too," Diego, who's been listening to our conversation very intently, echoes.

"Me too," I say softly.

I’ll ask Rider if he plans to stay soon. Even though I'm petrified that his answer will be no.

* * *

We rode up the hill all the way to the top to watch the sunset over the sea below. There is one large bay below us and five smaller ones, each untouched, the sea foaming and frothing from the waves.

"That last bay has the best surf," I say pointing at it. I'd meant to do some surfing when I first got here, but my surfboard is still in its case and stored away in the back of the garage somewhere.

"Surf? You mean waves?" Rider asks absentmindedly. I'm leaning against him as we sit in the grass, his arms wrapped around me. The sun has set almost completely and we'll leave soon, but I don't want to.

"Yes, waves. I used to surf a lot when I was younger," I tell him. "I'd drive around on weekends, looking for the perfect waves, then surf all day and sometimes sleep on the beach."

"Yeah?" he says, perking up and holding me tighter. "I like to just ride, you know, go where ever the road leads, and as far as it goes."

There's such whimsical longing in his voice as he says it, I feel all the pain of missing him already. Even though he's still here, he soon won't be. I can hear that clearly in his voice. This would be a great time to ask him about his plans now that the ditches are dug, but I don't want to know until I know.

"You belong to a motorcycle gang, don't you?" I ask. "I don't know much about any of that, but do they just let you ride around as much as you want? Don't you have duties and stuff?"

He laughs, the sound originating in his chest, but reverberating all through mine as well. "I'll bet you don't know much about biker clubs, and you won't learn it from me either. But yes, I was a member of an MC, and I did have duties, but they also let me just ride as much as I wanted to."

"You're not with them anymore?" I ask, hope blossoming way too hard in my chest. Him no longer being part of a biker gang makes him one step closer to staying here with me and the kids, and I want that more the longer he holds me.

"No, it's all gone now," he says, an edge to his voice. "The VP sold us out, but it was over long before then, as far as I'm concerned. I joined for the brotherhood and the unity and to have a place to call home, I guess, but that didn't last long." He's talking like he's waited a long time to tell someone, like I'm the first person he's telling all this to. But I don't know what questions to ask.

"I loved our old President Blade, he was a great guy, someone I could really stand behind, you know?” he adds. “But there was too much fighting within the club, too much scheming and going behind his back by his younger brother Shade. And Blade ignored it for too long, or maybe he just couldn't prevent it. At least he died before it all went to hell."

"What happened?" I ask, once his pause turns into just a regular silence.

"I shouldn't even be telling you any of this," he says. "Club business is secret. Not that it matters anymore, since the club is gone."

I don't ask any more questions after that, since I can hear it in his voice he'd rather not talk about it anymore. So I just let the silence win. Silences between us are not tense, because I'm never afraid that they won't end.

"So why are you out here instead of surfing on some sunny California beach?" he asks after awhile.

"Three years ago, I came to work at an orphanage in Rio. Packed everything I owned into my car and drove down here." I started telling him more than he asked for, and now I'm not sure how to continue.

"You drove all the way from California to Brazil by yourself?" he asks, sounding very impressed. "That must've been an adventure."

"I literally just drove, didn't stop much except to sleep," I admit. "I mostly slept in my car too. Basically I just did a lot of thinking. I needed it."

"We're not that different, you and I," he muses. "Did you find any answers?"

I know exactly what he means. It was answers I was searching for while I just drove. "Some, I guess, but not all. I did find a place I can call home, though. I love taking care of the orphans."

"So you're not going back home anytime soon?" he asks, and I think maybe we're on the same page, that we both really want to stay with each other, but we're both too scared of what the other's answer will be to ask directly. I know I am.

"I doubt I'm ever going back," I say.

"Whatever you were running from must've been bad," he says and chuckles softly.

Anger at the lot I was dealt, the reason why I had to leave my home and my whole life behind, blossoms in my chest black and corrosive despite his closeness, his arms around me, despite the orphans waiting for me back home.

"What are you running away from?" I ask.

"The same thing I always ran from: Not having anywhere to call home," he says, chuckling again. "But I’ve made my peace with that. Now I just ride, because the open road is the only place I'll ever call home."

I was going to ask him to stay, but he beat me to it with this admission, and now I don't know what to say.

"We should take the kids swimming at one of those bays tomorrow," he says, while my mind is still reeling from finding out that I truly am just a pit stop on his never-ending quest to belong nowhere, and to no one.

"I'd love to, but they won't all fit in the jeep," I say more bitingly than I intended.

"They'd all fit in the minivan and the station wagon, wouldn't they?" he asks.

"They would, but those two don't run. And no mechanic in a ten mile radius can fix them."

"Why didn't you say before?" he says. "Maybe I can do it. They look like they have some years left in them with proper care."

"You're a mechanic too?" I ask, my heart fluttering since this new job will keep him around for at least a couple more days.

"Yeah, I know a thing or two. I'd usually work on cars when I wasn't building houses," he says. "I'll take a look tomorrow."

And I really hope tomorrow turns into two months. Or two years. Or forever. And that's all I'm going to think about until it's time to say goodbye.