Rio sank onto the chair beside her, holding out the glass of cool liquid. “Drink this, Rachael, it might help to cool you down. In another hour or so, I can give you more meds to help bring down your fever.”

She was sweating from the pain more than the fever, but she didn’t want to tell him that, not after he’d gone to such trouble. The wind was cooler on her face, tugging at the wild curls in her hopeless mass of hair. She ran her fingers through it before taking the glass from him. Her hand was trembling enough that some of the cool liquid splashed over the rim of the glass. “Rio, tell me the truth.” She stared carefully out into the tree trunks and limbs heavily laden with wild orchids of every color. “Am I going to lose my leg?” Everything in her was still, waiting for his answer, telling herself she could handle the truth. “I’d much rather know now.”

Rio shook his head. “I can’t make promises, Rachael, but the swelling is less. Your fever comes and goes instead of raging all the time. There aren’t any more streaks going up your leg so I think we’ve avoided blood poisoning. As soon as we can, I’ll get you to a medic and have them take a look at it. The river goes down fairly quickly.”

“I can’t go to a doctor,” she admitted reluctantly. “No one can know I’m still alive. If they find out, I’m dead anyway.”

He watched her lips touch the glass, the contents of the glass tilt, her throat work as she swallowed. He stretched his legs out in front of him, sprawling out as if totally relaxed when he was anything but. “Who wants you dead, Rachael?”

“It isn’t really pertinent, is it? I had the presence of mind to shed my shoes in the water. They might be found when they look for me. And believe me, they’ll look. They’ll hire the best trackers they can find.”

“Then they’ll come looking for me. Tracking is what I do when I’m not rousting bandits.”

Rachael swallowed the sudden fear welling up. “Great. It isn’t like I can run from you either. They’ll offer you a lot of money to turn me over to them.” She shrugged, trying to be casual when she wanted to throw herself off the verandah and run. “Or maybe they’ll just ask you to kill me for them. Less trouble that way.”

His hand settled on her head. “Lucky for you, I’m not particularly interested in getting rich. I don’t need a lot of money living here. The fruit’s plentiful and I can easily hunt and trade for the things I need.” He rubbed strands of her wavy hair between the pads of his fingers. “I think I have a lazy streak.” He grinned at her. “Besides, you swing a mean stick. I don’t think I want to mess with you.”