Caroline braced herself as their carriage arrived at the jail. Gray clasped her hand, a reassuring lifeline as they headed toward the building, her heeled shoes wobbling over the scrabbly courtyard. The jail was a squat, one-story building with narrow slits for windows. A couple guards played dice beneath the shade trees, and Gray nodded to them as he passed. He’d been to Cuba several times to see Luke and knew how to navigate this world.

The doorway of the jail was open, and the warden sat at a desk in the front hall. Caroline’s eyes traveled the interior while Gray haggled with the warden for permission to bring in a bag of food and books for Luke. The warden pretended great reluctance, but this was another ritual Gray had told her about. The warden inspected the contents of the bag, sorting through the beef jerky, a few chocolate bars, and several canisters of peanuts. He fanned the pages of the novels but refused to let them bring in the bottle of pills. Gray always added one or two items he knew the warden would confiscate. The face-saving gesture meant that the food and books usually got through.

“Don’t get too upset,” Gray cautioned her for the millionth time as a guard began leading them down a narrow corridor, a set of keys jangling. “He’s going to look very different, but it’s nothing that a few months of decent food and sunshine can’t cure.”

The guard banged on the door to Luke’s cell and spoke in Spanish while turning the key in the rusty lock. It clanked as he pulled it open and held it for Caroline. It was dim inside the cell, but Luke stood on the other side with a wide smile.

Oh, good heavens. He looked like a pirate, with a dark beard and surprisingly long hair tied behind his head. She rushed into his arms, ignoring the smell, and tried not to cry.

A few minutes later Gray passed the bag to Luke, who grinned while pawing through it, tearing off a strip of beef jerky before he’d even finished taking inventory of its contents.

“Caroline? You want some?”

“It’s all yours,” she said with a shake of her head.

He continued making short work of the beef jerky while she scanned the cell. A cot and an upended crate used as a table were the only furnishings. Luke insisted she and Gray sit on the cot while he sat on the floor.

“Did you like the artichokes?” Luke asked as he settled against the wall, resting an arm over his bent knee. His amusement felt as natural as if they were loitering in the garden of their townhouse.

“I did indeed,” she replied. “How on earth did you smuggle them into the White House? The head of security is still annoyed about it.”

“Who said I had anything to do with it?”