"It'll get hotter still, trust me."

He remembered the day before well enough. "Sure. Shopping sounds great. Maybe we can find a place to get those pictures printed. And you can show me around."

"This is my first time to Acapulco."

"Right." He'd forgotten.

The concierge directed them to a shopping plaza designed with American tourists in mind. It was within walking distance. Nate had hoped it would be inside and air conditioned, but no. It was an open-air market. At least the stores were cool, and the shopping wasn't bad. The company, though—that couldn't be beat.

He walked alongside Marisa while Ana led the way, talking nonstop and pointing in awe about every two minutes.

"You'd think she'd never been shopping before," Nate said.

Marisa watched with a smile. "There's a market in town, of course. It sells mostly local food. But other than that, she hasn't." She glanced at him, then away. "There are no malls in my village."

"Where do you buy your clothes and stuff?"

She watched Ana, who'd stopped at a fountain and was dipping her fingers in the water. "The orphanage gets donations. Most of them come from this church in Oklahoma that supports us. They send all sorts of stuff. Most of her clothes come from there."

"What about yours?"

Her cheeks pinked. "That's where I get most of mine, too. I order some things online. Like... Well, stuff you wouldn't want to wear hand-me-down."

He could imagine.

"It's amazing how little we need. I used to spend more money on makeup and lotions than I spend on food now."

"Wow," he said. "A woman who doesn't shop."

Marisa looked into his eyes. "I gave up everything, Nate. Everything." She turned back and stared at her daughter. "But I gained even more."

He watched the sweet little girl play in the fountain. He'd seen that kind of sacrificial love last fall when his friend had been prepared to die to save her son. He didn't understand it—not personally. But he could appreciate it. In fact, on Marisa's face it seemed the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

She turned and caught him staring. Rather than look away, she met his eyes and held his gaze.

He itched to grab her hand. But would she recoil? Maybe not now, but if she understood what he'd done, how he'd almost gotten his friends killed, she certainly wouldn't want him to touch her. To be near her at all.

"Mama, Uncle Nate, come on!"

The moment shattered as Marisa turned to her daughter. "We're coming, pajarita."

"What does that mean, pa-ha-ree-ta?"

"Little bird."

"Ah. It fits."

They failed to find a place that could print the pictures, but Ana had forgotten about them already. Maybe if he could coax Marisa's address out of her, he could mail the photographs to Ana after he returned to the States.