governor's wife with the red hair.'
She tried not to blush.
'What if El Diablo had recognized you just now?'
'I'll cut my hair short and hide it under a scarf. I won't wear make-up.'
'But one day, someone will recognize your name if not your face.'
'I won't be Lindsay Bonner. I'll be Lindsay Byrne. My maiden name. An Irish nurse from Boston. I'll even speak with an accent.'
'You were born in Boston? How did you end up in Texas?'
'My father was a doctor at the VA hospital in San Antonio.'
'And is he still?'
'No. My parents are both gone now.'
'I am sorry. I am also broke. I cannot afford to pay you.'
'I have money. I need a purpose. Doctor, I can help you.'
He drank his coffee and considered her plan. He frowned.
'Have you had your shots?'
'Yes… I think.'
'Mrs. Bonner, a life on the border is a harsh life indeed. Have you truly thought this through?'
'I have.'
'And where will you live?'
'Oh. I hadn't thought about that.'
'If you go to a hotel in Laredo, you will have to show your ID, give them your credit card. Word will get out fast that you are living here on the border. If you rent a house or apartment, someone will recognize you. You cannot live here in the colonia, it is not safe.'
'You live here.'
'No. I live on the other side of Laredo, on fifty acres overlooking the river. My uncle had no children, so he left that land to me, and the small houses on it.'
'Houses?'
'The main house and a guesthouse.'
'Is anyone living in the guesthouse?'
'No, but-'
'Would you like a tenant?'
'The governor's wife, living in my guesthouse?'
'No. Your nurse.'
She had been certain he would readily agree to her plan, but he did not. He stared at her, and she knew he was asking himself if she was just a rich woman running away from her boring life.
'Doctor, I'm not running away from my life. I'm trying to have a life.'
'In the colonias? '
He stood and wandered about the clinic. He dug into one of the boxes El Diablo had brought and raised up with a carton of scalpels. He placed the carton on an empty shelf. He then went over and opened the front door and stood in the doorway.
Jesse Rincon gazed out upon Colonia Angeles. Six thousand patients. One doctor. A nurse would be a godsend for the patients. And for the doctor.
The governor's wife had come back.
But for how long? How long could she tolerate the harsh life of the colonias? How long before the wind and the dirt and the death and the hopelessness crushed her spirit like that empty beer can lying in the dirt road? How long before 'I can help' became 'I can't take it anymore'? How long before she called it quits and ran home to her old life in the Governor's Mansion? To the governor?
Those questions he asked himself. But the answer to each question was the same, and he already knew the answer: one day she would leave. About that he had no doubt. But there was one question that Jesse Rincon could not answer, a question that would not be answered until that day came, when the governor's wife left him: Was it truly better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?
'Doctor?'
His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. He turned and walked back to her.
'Go home, Mrs. Bonner.'
He sat down behind his desk and began packing his bag.
'But I thought-'
'This is not a Junior League project, Mrs. Bonner. This is life on the border.'
'I'm not here for that. I'm here because I care.'
'About these poor people? Why?'
'Because someone has to.'
'I do.'
'You can't do this by yourself.'
'I have for five years.'
'I can help you.'
'For how long? A day? A week? Maybe a month? Then the stink and the dirt and the death will beat you down, and you will run home to Austin, back to the Governor's Mansion where you belong. Go home, Mrs. Bonner.'
'You need a nurse… and I need to do this.'
'Why? Because you had a fight with the governor and now you need to prove something to him?'
'Because I need to prove something to myself.'
'And what is that?'
'That my life can still have meaning. That I can still make a difference.' She fought back the tears. 'That I'm not too old to be useful.'
He stared at her, as if trying to see into her soul. He finally stood.
'Okay. Are you hungry?'
Bode bit into the thick juicy steak. He chewed with the intensity of a man still pissed off at his wife for ruining a sexual encounter with his mistress-and harboring a nagging worry that his wife had been kidnapped. After Ranger Roy's phone call-and despite Mandy's best efforts-he could not recapture the erectile moment. He chased the steak with a swallow of bourbon. Pedro entered the dining room with a portable phone in hand.
' Senor gobernador — Ranger Roy, he has called again.'
Bode took the phone and answered.
'Well?'
'We found your wife, Governor.'
Lindsay Bonner wrapped the green scarf around her head and tucked her red hair underneath. She then put on a wide-brimmed straw hat. She checked herself in the mirror and smiled.
She was no longer the governor's wife.
They had stopped off at an outdoor market in Laredo on the way to the doctor's homestead on the other side of town. She shopped for clothes to wear as Nurse Byrne; he shopped for groceries. He said he cooked. Latino music played and Spanish was spoken; it reminded her of their vacation to Acapulco years before. She held a yellow peasant dress against her body and looked in the mirror. She turned at the sound of girls giggling; the doctor stood surrounded by several pretty young Latinas. They flirted and took cell phone photos with the handsome doctor. He really was something of a celebrity on the border. Lindsay now appraised herself in the mirror. She sighed. She was still lean and slim and even considered the glamorous governor's wife; but she was not a beautiful young girl anymore. She was a forty-four-year-old woman.
Her cell phone rang.
'What the hell are you doing down on the goddamn border?'
Bode had stepped out of the dining room. Waiting for the call to ring through, his blood pressure had jacked up to mini-stroke levels. Still, he felt relieved when his wife answered-but his anger and the alcohol quickly took over.
