Deadlock

larger two-story structure on the beach. 'But that's where you'll be staying. That's our Sister Irana's domain.'

She stiffened. 'Sister? A nun?'

'Well, technically she's no longer a sister. She was a nun serving in a small hospital outside Athens when I met her ten years ago. She saved my life when I washed ashore with three bullet holes in my body.' He turned to Dardon. 'Go and tell Irana we're coming, will you?'

Dardon nodded and took off down the path.

'A nun?' Emily repeated.

'Not any longer. Irana Povak. She's a full-fledged doctor now, but she was just an intern when I first met her. She was having a crisis of faith, and I didn't help. Anyway, after she decided to leave the order, I set her up in a hospital and convalescent home here on the island. She only takes a limited number of patients because she's busy doing re¬search. But each of them is universally considered hopeless or belongs to the unwanted.'

'I won't go there,' Emily said. 'I'm perfectly healthy, and there are no confessions I want to make to anyone. Not a nun or priest or-'

'No one's asking you to bare your soul,' Garrett said roughly. 'That would be the worst possible thing for you right now. All I'm asking is that you stay with Irana two days and see if it works out. If you don't like it, I'm only four miles away. A tough customer like you could hike that distance in no time.'

'I could come right now.' She turned to face him. 'Why don't you want me?'

'I do want you. But I want you to heal quickly. The longer it takes you to recover, the longer it will be until we can go after Staunton.'

'And this Sister Irana is going to bless me and make everything all right?'

'Irana is just neutral ground. There's nothing neutral about me, and it could get in the way. She's not going to ask anything of you. And she's too smart to think she can solve all the problems of the world.' He held out his hand. 'You said you'd do what I told you. Two days?'

She hesitated, then ignored his hand and passed him to go down the hill. 'If she doesn't try to save my soul. Nothing is going to stop me from killing Staunton.'

'Irana believes that only God can save a soul. And if you don't men¬tion lethal intentions, she'll have no reason to be upset.' He followed her down the path. 'And since you have no desire to confide in-There she is.' He waved at a woman who had come out of the hospital. 'I didn't think she'd be willing to wait until we came to her.'

'What are you up to now, Garrett?' Irana Povak called. 'Dardon says that I may be in trouble.' Irana was a slim, athletic-looking woman in her late thirties whose dark hair was pulled back in a loose chignon. She was dressed casually in jeans and a loose white shirt.

'Would I do that to you?'

'Yes.' Irana's glance shifted to Emily, and her eyes widened with recognition. 'Sweet Mary, I am in trouble. Are you crazy, Garrett? The island is going to be crawling with reporters.'

'No one knows she's here. Your nurses won't talk. How many pa¬tients do you have right now?'

'Only seven.'

'It shouldn't be too much trouble keeping Emily tucked away and out of their sight.'

'I don't want to be tucked away,' Emily said. 'Let's forget about it.'

'I could put her in the cottage where we keep contagious cases,' Irana said. 'No one goes there.'

'Fine.' He turned back to Emily. 'I'll see you in two days unless you call me.'

'I won't be hidden away.'

'You were willing for me to keep you incognito.' 'That's different.'

He met her gaze. 'Yes, it is. But you'll have to work it out with Irana.'

Emily's fists clenched as she watched him walk away.

'It will be all right,' Irana said quietly. 'He must think it's best, or he wouldn't have brought you to me. He's not really abandoning you.'

Emily turned to face her. 'I didn't want to be dumped on anyone. I can take care of myself.'

'But sometimes it's best just to relax and not have to worry about it. You must have been through quite an ordeal.' A sudden smile lit her face. 'I promise that I won't cosset you or ask you questions.'

'Cosset? That's a rather old-fashioned word, isn't it?'

'Yes, Garret gave me a library full of old books when I was trying to learn English. Everything from Shakespeare to Frances Hodgson Burnett. I thought everyone used words like that.' She chuckled. 'And Garrett never corrected me. Sly devil. It took me a year to weed out all those antiquated phrases. Some I kept because I like the sound of them.'

'You speak very good English.' It was true. Irana had only a trace of an accent.

'I like the language. It's both difficult and deceptive. I enjoy a chal¬lenge.'

Emily's lips lifted in a sardonic smile. 'Like having me tossed in your lap?'

'I had a choice. Garrett always gives me a choice.' She met Emily's eyes. 'I chose you, Emily. Now you must decide if you wish to choose me.

'What would you do if I didn't?'

'Take you back to him. I owe him a great debt, but he sometimes makes mistakes.' She tilted her head. 'Is this one?'

Emily didn't answer for a moment as she stared at the other woman. Irana wasn't what she had expected from the few words Gar¬rett had spoken about her. There was nothing serene or contemplative or nunlike about her. She was full of life and humor and vitality. Yet Emily could not see her imposing on anyone's space. 'It may not be a mistake,' she said slowly, and smiled. 'Since you promise not to cosset me.

Irana laughed. 'Instead, I'll let you read my Jane Austen. There's something very comforting about that time period. Some of the rules were nonsensical, but at least there were rules.' She took Emily's elbow and nudged her down the path. 'I'll visit you once a day at the cottage, but you'll have to be the one to invite me to stay. I won't intrude. And I think that Garrett is wrong about tucking you away entirely. I'm go¬ing to put you to work. Have you ever done any nursing?' 'No.'

'Well, then, there are plenty of floors to scrub. It will keep you from brooding, and work is good for the soul.'

'Yes, it is.' Emily felt a sudden surge of relief. 'I've had a job since I was sixteen. I'm not afraid of hard labor.'

Irana suddenly frowned. 'But you're limping. Can you work?'

'It's only a scratch. I want to work.'

'Good, you'll get plenty of it. But I think we'll just take a look at any wounds and have you throw down some antibiotics.' She stopped on the path, her gaze going to the horizon. 'The sun's going down. There's nothing more lovely than this time of day on the island. There's a kind of golden radiance…'

And there was a radiance about Irana Povak, too, Emily thought as she gazed at her. The bones of her face were bold and well-defined, her lips were wide but beautifully formed. Her deep-set dark eyes shone with spirit, and the few lines that marked her face appeared to reflect strength and endurance rather than age.

Irana glanced back at her. 'And Garrett was right to bring you here. This island can heal you if you let it.' She started back down the path. 'It healed me.'

GARRETT WAITED UNTIL THE third day before he called Irana. 'How is she?'

'The first day she was uneasy. Then when she realized that no one was going to push her to do something she didn't want to do, she re¬laxed. I put her to work scrubbing floors.'

'I wanted her to rest, dammit.'

'It's not what she wanted. I have to stop her after working all day and send her back to the cottage. When she gets there, she's tired enough to go to sleep. She wakes up at dawn and comes back to the hospital.' She paused. 'But she has nightmares, Garrett.'

'It would surprise me if she didn't.'

'Are you going to tell me what they did to her?'

'No. I don't know much myself. Her friend was tortured to death, and she feels guilty about it. When she's ready, she'll tell me.' He added, 'Or you. I'm not high on her list of trustworthy people.'

'You're wrong. I think she does trust you. You obviously have a bond.'

Garrett had a sudden memory of the blood and death that night in Shafir Ali's tent. 'Not one you'd appreciate, Irana.'