Love Takes Root: A contemporary romance novella Read online

  The next slide advanced, revealing a cutaway view of a mountainside. It showed trees at the very top with their roots sinking into the soil and various ground layers, all the way to the bottom of the illustration that displayed a blue section labeled “water table.” Kara cleared her throat. “This is an illustration of how a healthy water system works. Miles, would you like to explain it?”

  There was no one better than him to show the people of El Punto how their well got its water. She guessed he’d already tried to tell them about the issue, but doubted he’d had a visual aid. The surprised and thankful expression he gave confirmed her suspicion.

  Miles walked up to the wall and pointed to the top forested level. His deep voice spoke words she couldn’t understand, but she imagined what he said, knowing the diagram very well. Based on the wide eyes in the crowd, she could tell they were beginning to understand, too. Finally, he stopped talking and walked up to her. He leaned in to hold her hand. His breath moved the hairs on her neck as he said, “I think they finally got it, thanks to your illustration. Thanks.”

  “No problem,” she answered, feeling a little disoriented.

  Kara changed the slide again. A similar diagram showed a mountainside, but this one didn’t have trees growing on top, and the water table was considerably lower. “This is like your village of El Punto. It doesn’t have trees and roots to help drink in the water from the rain. Instead, that water creates landslides that run off into the ocean instead of collecting below the ground. Having no trees through your valleys and mountains is hurting you.”

  Enmanuel stood up and spoke. His voice was soft, but deep. Kara waited for the translation. Miles turned to her and said, “He says they had to cut the trees down to make room for the cattle to roam. They feel they have no other options.”

  “I understand,” Kara said. “I didn’t come here without a solution. If you planted bamboo on the hillsides, it would help the earth absorb water again so you can get it out of your well whenever you need it. Bamboo would also prevent the landslides from happening, without taking up the space larger trees do. You can even plant bamboo around your gardens and farms. It makes good places for chickens to roost, and the shoots are even safe for you and your cows to eat.”

  Enmanuel sat down, appearing satisfied enough to keep listening. Kara pushed on, hoping to gain momentum. “There are many kinds of bamboo that like the tropical environment here. There are two types—clumping and running bamboo. The clumping form would be best in your village. It grows in one place, and shoots sprout from its base. The type I recommend you grow has thick stalks—which would also be good for building purposes.”

  Kara leaned over and pulled out one of the items from her luggage. She held out a one-foot-long piece of bamboo. She could barely reach both her hands around its diameter. She gave it to a man sitting in front of her. “Go ahead and pass it around. Feel how strong it is. Most varieties have at least twice the strength of other timber.”

  As it made its way around the room, she hit the button on her projector a few more times. Buildings, bridges, homes, furniture and fences—all created by bamboo—flashed on the interior of the town hall. Men and women exclaimed and pointed in curiosity and excitement. Kara shot a hopeful glance Miles’s way. The wink he responded with made her heart skip a beat. Proud of the years of effort put into the program’s design, she had to take a shaky breath to remember what came next.

  “As it is now, your cattle roam free through your valley. You could easily produce enough to create fences to separate them, if necessary. I also understand there aren’t any veterinarians nearby. So, if your cattle suffer from sickness or complications from calving, there isn’t anyone who can help you. But I believe knowledge is power, which is why I brought you a gift.”

  She didn’t have to see everyone’s eyes on her—she felt them when she kneeled down to her suitcase again. Once she straightened, she stepped forward and held two books out to Enmanuel. “This is my gift to El Punto for everyone to share. I would like to present them to you, Mister Santos. I am grateful to you and your family for offering me such delicious food and a comfortable bed during my stay.”

  Opting not to describe the contents of the books, she allowed Enmanuel to open them and leaf through their pages. After a minute he whistled and raised them into the air. He lifted his voice as he spoke to the crowd. Everyone rose to their feet and clapped. Row upon row of grins and shouts of thanks reaffirmed that books written in Spanish with helpful tips and important veterinary information would be a valuable tool to these rural ranchers. It appeared she had been right.

  Enmanuel pumped her hand up and down vigorously, and she couldn’t help but laugh. Her laughter brought tears of joy to her eyes, which she tried to brush away without anyone noticing, but Miles’s observant gaze held to her face. He edged closer and whispered, “You seem to know just what everyone needs. I can’t believe I ever thought you weren’t prepared.”

  She didn’t know what to say. Just when she’d tried to compose her emotions, he went and said something that stripped her down to nothing. This trip had been beyond hard for her. Stepping out of her house and into the unknown to chase a dream of hers…and her father’s. Somehow, this dirt-covered engineer seemed to get her. And in the beginning she’d thought he was just a dirt-covered jerk.

  Thankfully the discussion among the ranchers about the books took the same amount of time she needed to collect herself. The remaining slides were narrated while she was almost in a daze, and then she moved on to the requirements of the project.

  “The best part of all of this is that there is no cost to you. United Rainforest Fund will purchase and transport all of the bamboo here. We will plant it with you and teach you how to tend and grow it yourselves—when it can be harvested and how to use it. All you have to do is commit your land to the project. Two hundred and fifty square hectares of land are needed for this to work. From what I’ve calculated, that’s the hills and mountains that surround your town. Do you have any questions?”

  At least ten hands rose into the air. Kara’s eyes fell on the man standing against the back wall. His unsmiling face and folded arms told her just how guarded he was about the concept. When their eyes met, Hector’s voice cut through the room, and Miles translated his question: “What makes you think we need your help? My ranch has been passed down through generations and it will continue to be with or without you.”

  She took a deep breath, knowing the hardest part had come. Kara stared into his stern eyes, trying to find an answer. “It is true, your land will continue to exist with or without any of us. I am concerned you’ll be affected by more landslides. I’ve seen your property myself and worry it could happen soon. I only wish to help.”

  Hector pointed at her and spat a series of words back. Kara’s heart raced in the face of confrontation. She looked at Miles, and he shook his head in response. She didn’t need an interpreter.

  A man sitting beside Enmanuel stood up and called out. Kara couldn’t bring herself to look at Miles when he translated, “Do we have to plant bamboo everywhere on our land?”

  Shaking, Kara put her projector back into the bag and took out a folded map. She held it up and heard her voice rise unnaturally high. “With help from Miles and Enmanuel, I’ve marked this map with your properties. After touring the area, I’ve shaded in the darker areas needed for denser bamboo planting, which means one plant every six feet, and the lighter green areas need one plant every ten feet. However, the base of the valley where many of you live and much of the inner areas of your village would not require any bamboo, unless you want it.”

  A man called out, and Miles voiced the question she knew was coming, “But some land will be covered with more bamboo than others—how is that fair?”

  “No es justo!”

  Movement at the back of the room drew her attention. Hector was edging closer. Kara tried her best to ignore him and shook her head. “It isn’t, from that perspective. But I designed this plan to help
everyone as a community. You all rely on the water supply, and the landslides can affect anyone here—especially if they get bigger and bigger. To gain the most benefit, bamboo needs to be planted on the mountains and hills strategically where nothing is protecting the earth. I understand there must be room for your cattle to roam, and the way we’ll plant them, they won’t have a problem.”

  Kara saw Enmanuel’s eyes squint at the map she held up, knowing that his land was the greatest piece of the puzzle. It wasn’t fair to him or to the other larger landowners to take the hit for everyone else. She just hoped they’d see the benefit outweighed the cost.

  “I know you probably have lots of questions about whose land will be more affected, but I think the map will answer all of that. I’ll leave it out so you can look at it.” She set it down on a small table alongside one of the walls. “Did you have any other questions I might be able to answer?”

  Her eye began to twitch as she feared more spite from the community. She was relieved when Elías stood up, pulled his hat off and spoke, blushing a little. Miles looked at her, then hesitated. “He wants to know if you’ll come back to plant the bamboo yourself.”

  “Oh.” Kara felt her own cheeks flush, but it wasn’t from Elías’s question, it was from the way Miles had asked. Like it had been his own burning curiosity that needed to be answered. “I am not part of the group that returns to carry out the plans. I'm supposed to lead, selecting the villages and towns for the program. To design the plan and find the necessary resources.”

  “Mala suerte,” Elías said with a frown. Enmanuel patted his nephew on the shoulder and appeared disappointed as well. Not that it mattered. It sounded like there were enough hesitant voices in the village to put her plans here at risk.

  Kara didn’t want to look at Miles. She was afraid to see his reaction. What if he was just as crestfallen as she felt in that moment? Only a few days had passed, but that didn’t change the fact that she’d grown attached to the kindhearted people and the countryside. It had been so long since she’d felt the presence of family. It dripped off the tongues of the Santoses when they spoke to each other and hung thick in the air when Enmanuel’s granddaughter sang into the sunset. This place was more of a home than her plant-filled house in the Bay Area.

  When she looked back up at the ranchers, all of their hands had gone down. She pulled out a clipboard with paperwork attached and set it on the table with the map. “If you are interested in being involved with the project, I need the signatures of the landowners listed on the form.”

  She tried to swallow the lump that formed in her throat, but it wouldn’t budge. All of the villagers began to stand, and the room filled with voices. Kara was almost glad she couldn’t understand what they were saying. What if Hector was unwilling to plant bamboo on his land and convinced the others not to?

  Kara was so caught up with her worries that she hadn’t noticed Miles had moved beside her. He leaned in and muttered, “They aren’t going to decide quickly. It’ll take the day at least for them to discuss it—and that’s if they’re in a hurry. Plus, it’ll suck standing around worrying, so there’s no point waiting around. Let’s take off.”

  “You sure?” she asked.

  “Oh yeah,” he answered, scratching his forehead. “You’ve been working hard on this—time for a break.”

  It sank in that she wouldn’t get her answer immediately, so her mind turned to the next thing that was on her list. “I’m definitely tired, but I’m not about to take a break. Could you go talk to José about that grove of bamboo? Find out where we could find it?”

  Miles studied her face a moment, then shrugged. “Sure. Be right back.”

  She watched him walk through the crowd of people who had converged on the map on the table. Kara went to grab her bag and waited for him beside the doorway. From there, she observed Elías speaking to Enmanuel at length. He glanced her way and gave one of his shy smiles, which she hoped was a good sign for the project.

  After a few more minutes, Miles wound his way back to her and said, “Okay, he told me everything he remembers.”

  “Think Enmanuel would mind if we borrowed one of his horses again?”

  He frowned and answered, “I don’t think so. Why?”

  “I figured out a way to help Quebrada de Aqua.”

  Chapter 7.

  Miles watched Kara walk ahead of him to the open stable area. She went to the horse they’d ridden yesterday and reached for the reins, which were tied to a post. While they’d spent their morning in the town hall, gray clouds had covered the sky. The humidity collected on his skin, making the air heavy to breathe.

  “Hey, Hot Lips,” Miles said. “I just want to make sure you realize it would be a horrible end to a long day if we stumbled onto a coca field. It’s best not to go wandering where we don’t belong. Plus, it looks like it’s going to rain soon.”

  She paused while running her hand down the horse’s neck. “Are you just saying that to scare me?”

  “I know I’ve proven I’m a jerk, but no, in this case I wouldn’t just say it. I need you to know there’s risk involved when you go off-road around here. One of us gets hurt, and we’re a long way from a doctor.”

  He watched Kara pinch her eyes shut. Her chest expanded with a deep breath, then she said, “I’m willing to take the risk, but I don’t want to force you into going with me. Just tell me where to go.”

  Miles laughed. “I wasn’t saying that I’m not going with you. We should be fine, but I wanted you to sign the verbal liability release.”

  She appeared relieved at his comment. “Consider it signed. So, did you empty your backpack?”

  “Sure did,” he said and held it up before slipping the straps over his shoulders. “Grabbed my utility knife and a blanket too, just in case you need to wrap up your grass clippings or whatever they’re called.”

  Kara frowned, then said suddenly, “I knew I was forgetting something. Banana leaves—we’ll need those too—to wrap the roots with.”

  There were banana trees on the property. A few were near the home, so he pulled his knife out of his pocket and went to cut a bunch of tender green leaves off. He returned to Kara, who offered to take the long stalks from him. “How far did José say it was?”

  “Maybe half an hour by horse. Not too far.”

  After their long morning ride yesterday, he wasn’t excited about getting back on. His legs ached just thinking about it, but he walked up to the horse, grabbed the base of its mane and swung his leg over its back. He pulled himself the rest of the way up, balancing himself before offering Kara his hand. The light of excitement gleamed in her eye. With her settled behind him, his sore legs were no longer at the center of his attention. He tried not to focus on her hands holding him around his waist and how they made him feel.

  “Arre!” He clicked his tongue and kicked his heels gently into the horse’s flanks. Her fingers clung to his side as they lurched forward.

  As on the day before, they rode in silence. He walked the horse upstream so they wouldn’t miss the grove. José had been specific—keep to the stream and you will find it. Thirty minutes passed before they made their way through the hillside. Trees dotted the landscape more densely the farther north they moved. Muddy water trickled down the slope, an exposed capillary of the earth.

  “There they are,” she whispered and raised her hand to point ahead.

  Through the other brush, he could see the pale-lime blades of the bamboo plant peeking out. Long stalks, parallel to each other, reached into the sky. The closer they got, the taller they became. Soon Miles and Kara were surrounded, and the air above them was a sea of green.

  “I’ve never been in a bamboo grove.” Miles craned his head back to look at the amazing sight.

  “The more there are, the taller they can grow. It’s like each one is a tiny minnow, but together they make a school. There’s more protection and safety in numbers.” Her fingers flexed as she talked, and the corners of his mouth curled into a s
mile.

  “So, what are we looking for?”

  Kara answered, “Any of this will do. If you want to stop, we can tie off the horse so I can get started.”

  Miles pulled on the reins. “So!”

  The horse came to a stop. Miles held his hand out for Kara, who grasped it before sliding off the back of the animal. Her cheeks were flushed from the ride, and the stray hairs that had fallen free from her ponytail framed her temple. She slipped her backpack off and held it in one hand.

  “Most of these plants look really healthy,” she said, “so it shouldn’t matter where I start.”

  Kara knelt down, opened her bag and produced a hand trowel and gardening gloves. He frowned, wondering where she’d found the tool. As if reading his mind, she shrugged. “I always take a pair of gloves with me, and I found the trowel beside Enmanuel’s house with some other tools. I’ll return it when I’m done.”

  Miles swung his leg over the back of the horse and dropped himself onto the ground. He reached out to the nearest bamboo stalk to tie off the horse’s reins.

  With the tool in hand, Kara knelt beside a cluster of shoots. She began to dig down. “I think the best choice is getting some rhizomes for propagation. I think they’ll be more successful than taking cuttings.”

  “Whatever you say. It all means nothing to me—just tell me how I can help.”

  She wiped her forehead and laughed. “There’s only one trowel. You brought your utility knife though, right?”

  Miles pulled it out of his backpack to show her.

  “We’ll need that to cut off the top of the culm. I’ll try to dig up the rhizome, which is basically its root system. I’m going to try to get two or three stalks that are connected together—I just have to be careful not to damage the roots or rhizome. If you’re up to it, you could cut off the top of the stalk just above the third node.” She pointed at the horizontal lines that scored the exterior of the culm.