It took a while, but eventually all the confusion and chaos caused by the returning animals died down. The Masai, chattering and laughing over the wonderful events of the day, went back to their homes, leaving the others to make one final check and then gratefully seek out their own beds. Jim lingered to spend a little more time with Fay, but eventually he went indoors as well. He found John Henry busy trying to close his suitcase, an expression of offended curiosity on his face as he did so.

"How come I have exactly the same amount of things going home as I had coming here and yet this stupid suitcase won't close?" he demanded aggrievedly.

Sinclair smiled faintly. "As I recall, two of the men had to sit on the case to close it when you were packing the last time," he pointed out.

"Oh, yeah, that's right," the young Navajo chuckled. "I just hope no-one asks to check my baggage when it comes to Customs, or it could get pretty dicey." He glanced across to where Jim was toying with one of the shirts which had been folded and placed on the bed. "Hey, come on, we've got an early start tomorrow, remember? We have to get into Nairobi to catch that plane. At least we know Hayes is going to be okay, now, which is a load off my mind. Jim? You with me, Sinclair?"

Sinclair gave a start when John Henry clicked his fingers in front of his face. He gave his amigo and embarrassed smile. "Sorry. Guess I was miles away."

"I'll bet," John Henry chuckled. "My guess is you were just far enough away to be with a certain red-headed lady. I saw the pair of you. You're lucky we're not in Texas, otherwise you'd have some pappy hot on your trail with a shotgun and a preacher in tow!"

"Maybe he wouldn't need the shotgun," Sinclair said mildly.

For a moment, John Henry's ready smile wavered and he looked disconcerted. He shrugged the worry off and summoned up another laugh. "Yeah, sure. Jim Sinclair, last of the wild bachelors, roped and hog-tied, ready for the altar? I don’t think so, somehow. You're just missing home. Soon as you get back and look up all your old flames, you'll start to feel better."

He turned back to take the added precaution of buckling on some straps to keep his suitcase from exploding. Sinclair glanced down at his own suitcase and sighed as he realised that he already knew he wasn't going to be able to leave Africa and Fay. Both had cast a spell on him and it hadn't been until he'd been ready to return home that he realised that he had also come to believe in Hayes' dream of a better tomorrow for the natives. The only trouble was going to be in breaking the news to John Henry. Raising troubled eyes, he studied the oblivious youngster. It had been years since he had taken the angry Navajo under his wing and on looking back he acknowledged how much that single act had enriched his own life. While he had known that it was inevitable that their paths would one day diverge again, he hadn't expected - or wanted - it to be this soon.

"John Henry?" He knows, Sinclair realised, seeing the way John Henry straightened up but didn't turn around. He knows or he's guessed. "I won't be going back to America."

The back being presented to him tensed even further. "I didn't think you had a choice," John Henry said softly. "The boss only let you off for six months, remember?"

Don't make this any harder for me, kid, Sinclair thought sadly. It's tearing me up inside as it is.

"Yeah, I remember, but a man's entitled to change his mind… and to move on when he thinks it's time." He wished that John Henry would turn around and face him. He might not be able to see past the mask which the kid had learned early on to show the world, but he would be able to tell what John Henry was feeling if he could see his eyes. Those had never lied to him, not even at the beginning. "Kid?"

John Henry sighed and finally turned around to face him. To Jim's relief, there was no anger in his eyes, only rueful acceptance and a little sadness. "I knew she'd got to you. I just didn't figure on it having gone this deep. You sure about this, Jim?"

Sinclair started to nod, then paused. He owed his friend something a little more than a knee-jerk reaction. "If you're asking me if I'm in love with Fay, all I can say is that I've never felt this way about a woman before in my life. Where we'll go from here is something else and best left to the future. If you're asking me about this dream of Hayes, though, then I can tell you that I'm real sure about it. It feels right, like it's something I've been waiting for all my life. I have to do this, John Henry. If I walk away now, then I think I'll always regret it."

John Henry gave him a steady considering look, then smiled again, shaking his head. "You always were one for lost causes and chasing rainbows," he observed. "Can't very well yell at you when you're only doing now what you did when you first hooked up with me."

Sinclair returned the smile with relief. "It's because of you that I can appreciate Hayes' dream."

John Henry made a politely scoffing sound. "Yeah, right. That and a buck fifty'll get me a meal," he snorted. "Well, I guess the boss'll have to take a fifty per cent return instead of his full investment. With any luck I can blame it all on you and he won't roast my head too bad."

He turned back to pick the suitcase up and position it against the foot of the bed, missing the expression of dismay which crossed Sinclair's face. The Texan swiftly caught himself and had busied himself clearing his bed by the time John Henry turned back and claimed the bathroom before vanishing in the direction of a well-earned shower.

So what did you expect? Sinclair berated himself. Did you really think he'd throw up his own life and stay just because you've decided to? He doesn't have the same ties you have, and he's even more isolated here than you are.

He'd hesitated enough about involving John Henry when Goddard had approached him with the original idea about coming to Africa. Because of the circumstances of his early life, John Henry sometimes felt as though he was caught between two cultures - white and Amerindian - and was a fish out of water in both of them. The last thing Jim had wanted to do was drag him to a completely different continent and worsen the isolation still further. It wasn't until he'd realised that John Henry had automatically assumed that he would be the person coming with Jim that Sinclair had given into the inevitable. After all, it had only been for six months and could be considered something of a working holiday.

Some working holiday! Sinclair snorted to himself in amusement. He knew that, even if he was given the chance to go back in time and make his choices again, he'd do it all the same, but he was honest enough to acknowledge that, in his heart of hearts, he had half-expected John Henry to decide to stay with him. That arrogance, more than anything else, made him determined that he would say and do nothing to keep John Henry by his side. The kid deserved a life of his own, and the right to choose his own path through life.

oooOooo

Sinclair watched the dust cloud from the jeep slowly settle back onto the land. He still couldn't really believe that John Henry had actually left. Breakfast had been an awkward affair. Hayes had made it clear that John Henry was perfectly welcome to stay on if he wished, and Sinclair had inwardly winced when everyone had then looked at him, as if expecting him to add his encouragement to John Henry. He had bit his tongue and concentrated on the meal, as if he actually intended to eat any of it. Samson had been extremely vocal in his wish to have John Henry stay. He might have developed a healthy dose of hero worship where Jim was concerned, but he obviously considered John Henry to be some kind of older brother. Even Peter had murmured that they would miss him, a statement which had oddly flustered John Henry more than anything else would.

In the end, John Henry had ended it by telling everyone that he hated goodbyes and that it was culturally taboo for him to linger too long, for fear of laying a curse on the journey. Sinclair wasn't too sure about that. Half the time, John Henry made customs and taboos up as he went along, but there had been the odd embarrassing occasion when Sinclair had called him on something and found out that it was the genuine article. He'd learned to go with the flow and concentrate on keeping his head above water.

Finally acknowledging that the jeep had vanished into the shimmering heat haze which concealed the horizon, Sinclair went back into the house. Fay had arrived later that morning to add her own goodbyes to the ones John Henry had already collected, curse notwithstanding, but she had discreetly vanished to allow Jim and John Henry some final moments together. Seeking her out, Jim tried to distract himself with some well-mannered flirtation. Hayes chipped in with a plan he'd come up with ever since he had learned that the Masai intended to remain in this area for a while yet, the elders being curious to see what would come of Hayes' plans. Samson's avowed desire to go to school had triggered an idea which the Englishman wanted additional input on.

Time passed. Jim knew to the second when John Henry's plane was due to leave, and he flinched when the carriage clock in the main room discreetly chimed the hour. Well, at least he could now abandon the idiot plan he had been playing with to fly down and grab John Henry before he could board the plane. This was better for the both of them; a clean break with separate agendas to occupy them while the pain faded.

Peter eventually returned from Nairobi, a large sack of groceries in his arms as he passed through on his way to the kitchen. The normally cheerful African's face was studiously blank and Sinclair's heart sank when he saw it. He had a feeling that he was going to be cast as the bad guy for a while. Maybe he should start thinking about finding something to occupy himself instead of brooding like this.

"I think I'll take a ride," he announced. "Scout out a few more zebra to add to the herd."

Hayes forbore to mention that they had more than enough zebra since an additional twenty head had returned with their animals. "I thought you might," he agreed. "Maybe you could swing past Mogebi Spring and let me know what the water level's like."

"I'll do that."

Sinclair had been half-afraid that Fay would suggest that she come along, but she obviously realised that he wanted to be alone, giving him an understanding smile before successfully deflecting Samson from his suggestion that he go with Jim. Feeling more than a little relieved to be finally alone, Sinclair left the house and made for the barn. To his surprise, one of the horses was already saddled and waiting. Then he remembered Hayes' comment and realised that the Englishman had anticipated him, probably ordering that a horse be made ready in case Jim decided to make a break for it. Impressed at the perception that showed - and a little dismayed to be that predictable - Sinclair gathered up the reins and prepared to mount.

"Saddle your own horse, cowboy."

Sinclair froze at the familiar voice which came from behind him. He stood where he was for a moment, staring across the horse's back and knowing that there was a huge and idiotic grin nearly splitting his face in two, as a warm wave of emotion passed through him. He managed to get himself under control and turned to face John Henry. The Navajo was scowling at him, but his eyes were bright with laughter.

"Huh, I turn my back for a few minutes and already you've got your hands on my horse!" John Henry sniffed as he wormed his way past Sinclair and mounted with one fluid motion. He sat looking down at the Texan for several minutes, while Jim stared wordlessly up and told himself that he wasn't imagining this. Then John Henry leaned forward and poked Sinclair in the ribs. "And you still owe me money!" he announced, before pulling the horse around and giving the mare her head with a war whoop which had her bounding out at a full gallop.

"Hey? Hey!" Looking round wildly, Sinclair spotted what he'd hoped would be there; his own horse saddled and waiting in another stall. Running over to the animal, he vaulted into the saddle and took off after John Henry. "You come back here, you damn Indian!" he hollered.

"You have got to be kidding!" John Henry laughed as he made good his escape.

The sound of galloping hooves had drawn Hayes and the others out of the house in time to see John Henry light out for the horizon, hotly pursued by a yelling Sinclair, both Americans laughing so hard they were nearly coming off their mounts. Fay clapped her hands together and laughed in delight, while Samson managed a creditable rebel yell.

"I say," Hayes said, smiling broadly as he rubbed his hands together. "I have a suspicion that Goddard is going to be sending me a stiffly worded letter in the near future. Did you know about this, Peter?" he demanded when the African joined them on the veranda.

"Yes, sir," Peter grinned. "He changed his mind just before it was time to board the plane. He said that Jim Sinclair wasn't safe to be let loose without an expert to keep him in line. He told me not to say anything when I came back."

"Hmm, I can see he's becoming a bad influence on you," Hayes said, his attempt at stern disapproval marred by the large grin on his face. "Right, then, I think we deserve something a little special in the way of dinner tonight."

"Yes, sir. I took the liberty of buying a few things while I was in Nairobi. John Henry has been complaining that our food is too bland for his tastes."

"Hey?" Hayes said in alarm. "Now, wait a minute, Peter, I've been to New Mexico and I've had some experience of what the natives there consider a reasonably spiced meal! I think I'd better come and check on what you're cooking."

"I'll come with you, Howard," Fay offered.

The three adults went inside, leaving Samson to stare off in the direction Jim and Sinclair had gone. John Henry would stay, and that would make Jim happy. It would also please Samson, since he could now pester John Henry to answer all those questions Jim always avoided, and maybe teach him some of the tricks the Navajo had already showed himself to be skilled at. Maybe if Samson was very good, John Henry might even let him learn how to do some horse-stealing!

oooOooo