Miraculously, this time he answered. “My mother’s oasis.”
The image of date palms clustered around a small pond in the sand filled her mind, but it didn’t fit with her sense of Jag’s tastes. “Your mother’s oasis?”
The nearing twilight brought another miracle with it—he smiled.
And as much as she wished she could be immune and unmoved, seeing him crack—even if it was just one corner of his mouth lifting—made her heart beat faster.
“It’s not what you’re picturing,” he said, reading her mind, as always.
“Then what is it?” she asked.
“My mother’s family had land at the far western point of Hayat. By appearances, it is a wasteland of sand, far off the beaten path of traditional nomadic routes,” he said.
Catching his drift, she said, “But appearances can be deceiving?”
Nodding, the other corner of his mouth joining the first to bring a real, full smile to his lips, he said, “They can, indeed. The land has been in my mother’s family for generations, its true worth kept as a cherished secret in order to preserve and protect it. It was a wise move. Because she kept the secret even from her husband, she was able to leave it to me when she died and my father, thinking it useless and valueless, had no incentive to steal it. And when I came of age, I made sure it was no longer possible.”
“But really there’s an oasis there?” she asked.
“Not naturally. But naturally, there is groundwater. Lots and lots of it. Formed by a large underground porous stone system, in the desert, it is more priceless than gold. My family found the water by chance. They built, maintained and kept secret the oasis, by choice.”
“And you couldn’t tell me when we were at home because of the secret.”
He nodded.
“I thought you trusted Rafida,” she said softly, a hand coming to her abdomen.
Jag’s face went hard. “I do. You, however, are the only person I’ve ever trusted with this. Our family has managed the water for hundreds of years, going so far as to engage in a state-of-the-art catchment to refresh from what little rain we get. This is not mere wealth, but survival.”
“Is it abandoned, then?” she asked.
Shoulders loosening, he gave his head a brief shake. “No. There is an entire village responsible for managing, monitoring and protecting it.”
“Protecting it?” she prodded, picturing armed soldiers in fatigues.
“It’s water in the desert, Rita.”
So her picture might not be that far off.
“And it’s very remote?”
He nodded. “As remote as you can get and still be in Hayat.”
“And why are we going?”
“It’s the only place I can be sure the twins and you will be safe from my father.”
Flatly, she said, “Well, thanks for telling me.”
“Everything’s changed now,” he countered. “It’s one thing to take responsibility for the safety of an adult woman who can consent to a certain level of risk. It’s another to protect a woman pregnant with twins from a man who would not think twice about threatening his unborn grandchildren if it meant controlling me.”
Again, her hand came to shield their growing babies. “I see.”
“Do you?” he pressed, temper fraying. “Do you see what has to be done?”
Rita’s eyebrows came together. She understood that the threat they were facing was graver than she had initially imagined, but she did not see how that led them to driving to a secret oasis in the remote desert.
“I’m taking you to Jana to stay there for the remainder of your pregnancy. It is the only place I can be assured of your safety. My father cannot get to you in a place he does not know exists.”