Accidentally the Sheikh's Wife (15 page)

The dinner surprised her. She expected only another couple or two, but there were thirty couples. The dinner was a lavish affair with servants scurrying to carry in the dishes, remove dirty plates and make sure everything went smoothly.

Because she could not speak Arabic, Bethanne sat next to Rashid. But she noticed other couples were separated to mingle with the other guests.

“I’m content to eat and watch. You don’t have to translate everything for me,” she said softly after about ten minutes of his commenting on what others said.

“You’ll be left out.”

She looked at him in exasperation. “Rashid, I would never fit in here. I’m delighted to taste some more dishes and watch the other women in their finery. But I don’t expect to become friends with anyone. Enjoy yourself. Truly, I’m happy enough.”

Sheikh al Benqura was not like Bethanne’s image. To her he looked like a father who had been disappointed in his only child. His gray hair was worn a bit long. His wife looked sad—especially every time her gaze landed on Rashid. Bethanne knew they had both wanted the marriage. Still, they were doing their best now to smooth things over. Rashid had told them he and Bethanne had a special friendship. It was true to a certain degree, but not to the level they suspected. Clever use of words, she thought.

After dinner, they stayed for only a short time, claiming an early departure time in the morning as a reason to be the first to leave.

“That went better than I expected,” Rashid said as they settled in the limo for the ride back to the hotel.

“Did it?”

“Yes. You played the part perfectly. Madame al Benqura wished me happiness in our marriage.”

“Which you denied.”

“Of course, but in such a way she didn’t believe me. I wonder why.”

“Because she’s also embarrassed by her daughter’s running off. And I think she believed your heart might be involved. So she would be relieved if you were involved with someone else. No matter how unsuitable.”

“You are not unsuitable,” he replied.

Bethanne didn’t respond. He still thought her the daughter of a thief. She was tired and wanted to go to bed. Tomorrow they’d return to Quishari and the goodbyes that waited.

“You are a kind man, Rashid. It was good of you to save face for them. It will make the working relations run more smoothly in the future.”

The next morning they took off early, leaving Marrakech just awakening in the dawn. Once again the plane was refueled in Cairo. Then began the final leg of the trip. It was growing dark as they flew over the Quishari western border. Before long scattered lights speckled the landscape below them. The skies were full of stars, so much clearer at this elevation. Bethanne loved flying at night. There was something special about rocketing through the darkness with only the stars as a guide.

She checked her coordinates and contemplated her next move. If Rashid wasn’t going to help, she’d have to do it herself.

Rashid rested his head on the sofa cushions. He was tired. The dealing with his new associate had been long and more difficult because of Haile’s actions. To pretend things were fine when they weren’t went against his grain. He was all for openness and honesty—where it didn’t hurt anyone. Having Bethanne along, pretending he was involved with her, had given his host a way to save face. The deal was too important to end up contentious because of a willful woman’s actions. But the strain of being with her and yet not wore on him.

The airplane shifted slightly. Rashid opened his eyes. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was too early to be landing in Alkaahdar. Yet it definitely felt as if the plane was descending. Was there a problem?

He rose and walked to the cockpit just as Bethanne spoke into the microphone, “Fasten up.”

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

She shook her head, concentrating on the task at hand. “You need to sit down and fasten your seat belt,” she said.

“Why are we descending?”

“We’re landing.”

He slipped into the copilot’s seat and looked out. The blackness below went on for miles, with only a speck of light here and there and a small glow in front of them. Ahead was an array of lights—a runway.

“Where are we?”

“Buckle up, Rashid. We’re going to land in about five minutes and if it’s bumpy, you don’t want to be tossed around.”

He snapped on the belt and reached out to take her arm.

“Where are we?”

“Airborne over Quishari, soon landing in Quraim Wadi Samil.”

“No.”

“Oh, yes,” she said softly.

He heard the determination in her tone. Unless he knew how to take control of the plane, there was nothing he could do.

“I’ll call your office and have you fired.”

“Go for it.” She flicked him a glance. “I came to Quishari with two purposes. To deliver the plane and to find my father. I’m not going home when I’m so close. Now, I would like to concentrate on the landing, so kindly keep quiet.”

Rashid was struck by the novelty of having someone telling him to shut up. Did she know who he was?

Of course she did, and was not a bit intimidated by the fact. She claimed to love him. Yet she had not repeated that statement once he’d shown her he couldn’t be persuaded. Had it been a gambit?

With a resignation that the truth was probably she had tried that to get his cooperation, he settled back and watched her bring the jet in with a perfect landing.

It was not so late the airport wasn’t still functioning. But late enough they were probably the last plane to land this evening. Quraim Wadi Samil didn’t qualify as a hot spot in the world of travel.

She taxied where directed and shut down the engines.

“We’re here,” she said.

“Do you plan to go to the cemetery in the dark?”

She shook her head. “I plan to find a room somewhere, sleep until morning and then go. After you get the location from your assistant. If you want me to, I’ll take you to Alkaahdar before leaving for Texas.”

“And if I call your home office to have you dismissed?”

“As I said, go for it. I may never get this chance again. I need to know for absolute certain.” She rose and went to get her small suitcase and open the door. Walking down the steps, she turned toward the terminal.

Rashid was tempted to call her bluff. She had openly defied him. He sat down in the seat and considered his options.

He knew why she had landed here. If it had been his father, wouldn’t he do all he could to find out the truth? To learn what happened?

He reached in his pocket for the cell phone and called his assistant at home. It was late, but he needed answers now.

Rashid checked into the hotel they’d used when last in Quraim Wadi Samil. He verified Bethanne was already there before heading up to his room. He had a lot of thinking to do.

The next morning, he waited in the lobby until she came down. Crossing to her, he took her arm and pulled her aside.

“I’ve ordered a car to take us to the cemetery near the older part of town. I know where your father is buried.”

She looked at him in astonishment. “You’re kidding. Have you always known?”

“I learned of it last night. Come, we have time before the car comes to have breakfast. Have you eaten?”

She shook her head.

They sat in the sunshine in the small courtyard off the main restaurant adjacent to the hotel. Once their orders had been given and the waiter left, Rashid began.

“I called my assistant last night. He had talked with Hasid. Then I called Khalid.”

“Khalid?” Bethanne said, puzzled.

“He is the sheikh Hasid spoke with, not me.”

Of course, both the twins were sheikhs. Hasid had nodded toward where Rashid and Khalid had been speaking. In his mind he probably thought she knew who he meant.

“And?”

Rashid looked around, as if assuring himself they would not be overheard.

“I owe you an apology, Bethanne. Your father’s friend was correct. Hank was doing a special favor for my father—a secret assignment, as said. He came here to Quraim Wadi Samil to pick up someone special. The flight was cut short with a freak sandstorm shortly after they departed the airport. They were blown off course, or flew wide trying to avoid the sand. But the plane crashed. Everyone on board died.”

Bethanne stared at him. Rashid tried to gauge her feelings, but her expression was wooden. “What was the secret?”

He didn’t want to tell her. He didn’t want to believe it, but his brother had made it clear it was the truth. After accusing her father—he owed her the truth.

“A daughter my father had with a woman not his wife. He wanted to see her before sending her to finishing school in Switzerland. Hearing of her death triggered his heart attack and he died. Khalid has known, and chose not to reveal it to anyone. Until I forced it out of him last night.”

She still didn’t say anything.

“My apologies for accusing your father. Had I known the truth from the beginning, I would never have said such a thing.”

“So you know where he’s buried?” she asked.

“I have directions.”

She nodded and then stared around the courtyard as if she didn’t know where she was.

“I’m sorry, Bethanne.”

She nodded again. “Does your mother know?” she asked.

“No. Khalid’s rationale was no one needed to know. He never expected Hank’s daughter to show up. When I told him who you were, he finally agreed to tell me everything. He was protecting my mother.”

“And you,” she said slowly.

He nodded. “It’s hard to discover the honorable man I revered my entire life had cheated on his wife and had another child. One, moreover, he spent a great deal of time with. I thought his reasons for keeping the oil fields operational and under such close observation was he wanted the best for the people of Quraim Wadi Samil. Turns out it was a cover for visiting his mistress and child.”

“Now I’m the one who’s sorry. That has to be hard to learn at this late date.”

“I can deal with it. It’s my mother who continues to need protecting. Fortunately he was circumspect and few people knew of the situation. Now that the daughter is dead, and my father, the story is unlikely to come out.”

The waiter reappeared with their breakfast. Conversation ended while they ate. Rashid wished Bethanne would say something. But he couldn’t have said what. She had a lot to forgive with his family. If he’d told Khalid sooner, would he have told Bethanne the truth immediately? Before he had a chance to know her, to grow to care for her?

After they finished eating, they summoned a hired car. Rashid gave directions to the cemetery and when they reached it instructed the driver to wait. The graveyard was dusty and brown. Few scraggly plants grew, no grass. The tombstones were lined up in rows. The main path cut the grounds in half.

Bethanne looked at the tombstones as they walked through one section. Her heart was heavy. Tears threatened. She had known for a long time her dad was dead. He would not have ignored her this long had he not been. But she had clung to hope as long as she didn’t know for sure. Now that hope was gone.

As if he knew exactly where he was going, Rashid led her across a series of sections and stopped in front of a newer stone. Hank’s name was in English. Other words were carved in Arabic. She hadn’t a clue what they said.

“What does the inscription say?” she asked, staring at the foreign script.

“It says, ‘Here rests a true friend, loyal to the end.’”

“Probably not the words that would be used if he were a thief,” she murmured. She wished the words had been in English.

“Hi, Dad. I found you,” she said softly. She knelt on the ground, reached out and touched the stone. It was already warm from the sun. Memories flashed through her mind. She loved her father. Felt curiously happy to find him, even though he had died three years ago. She had known it all along, just denied it. He would not have ignored her for so long had he been on earth. The cards and letters had came sporadically, but the phone calls had been as regular as the sunrise.

She wouldn’t have been a pilot if he hadn’t fostered the love of flying in her. She wouldn’t have seen as much of the world as she had. And he wouldn’t be lying here now at age fifty-two if he hadn’t been who he was. Wild and free, only touching down when he had to. Otherwise the skies were his home.

Would she end up like he had? Alone, far from her native land? Having lived life the way she wanted?

She glanced at Rashid. One thing she wanted she wasn’t going to get.

“How did you know right where he was buried?” she asked.

Rashid was silent for a moment, staring at the headstone. “Khalid told me. And where our half sister lies. I want to see that stone as well. I didn’t know I had a sister until last night.”

“The mechanics at the airport said Hank stole the plane and vanished. That the sheikh’s son didn’t know anything. Hasid said he’d told you.”

“No. I didn’t know. But Khalid did. He was the one who discovered what happened when they didn’t arrive as planned. She was to go to college in Europe and my father wanted to see her before she left.”

“How was he planning to do that without your mother’s knowledge?”

“I have no idea. But she doesn’t know. She would be so hurt. She herself always wanted a daughter.”

Bethanne looked at the graves marching away from her father.

“And where is her place?”

“Come, Khalid told me. It was he who arranged the stones. He who took care of everything, careful to keep our father’s name out of it.”

Bethanne rose and touched the stone again. She would in all likelihood never be here again. She’d found her father, only to have to say softly, “Goodbye, Dad.”

Rashid led the way down several rows. Soon they stood before a stone engraved completely in Arabic.

“The place next to it is saved for her mother. She loved my father and he loved her. When they met—when he came to start the oil fields—he was already married with two sons. According to Khalid, the arranged marriage with my mother was important in a business sense. Yet he wanted to end it. My mother would not without causing a scandal and pulling out the money that would have sunk the business back then. In the end he stayed married to her. He told Khalid this as he was dying. He visited Quraim Wadi Samil as often as he could, enjoying his daughter and spending time with the woman he loved. He swore to Khalid our mother never knew.