Beautiful Sacrifice

architecture was a mix of Spanish and Maya, modern and ancient. Construction seemed to follow the fortunes of the Reyes Balam family. Older buildings had been renewed and new ones had been built when the family had money.
    “Carlos obviously has done well,” Hunter said.
    “Once he was through his rebellious years, he has worked tirelessly for the family. Unlike my grandfather, who nearly ruined the family by picking the wrong fight, Carlos has avoided politics.”
    “Avoided the limelight, yes,” Hunter said. “No one with real money avoids politics, especially in Mexico.”
    What Hunter didn’t have to say was that Carlos was listed among the top tier of wealthy businessmen in Mexico. If people bought cement or mahogany, chances were good that they bought from some arm of Reyes Balam enterprises.
    Lina turned off the headlights. The jungle flowed closer, part of the darkness. The stars were lost to the high overcast. Somewhere the moon glowed, but not here, not now.
    She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I love the smell here. Green, living, laced with a hint of flowers and heat.”
    “Home,” Hunter said.
    Her answer was a soft laugh. “I never thought of it like that, but you’re right. The early memories are the deepest. The sweet mysteries of the jungle, the music of children laughing, women calling to one another at the market, the smell of pork and chiles and unsweetened chocolate. The shocking coolness of jumping into a cenote on a hot day. Playing hide-and-seek among the ruins while the faces of gods watched. The music of life that is the jungle at night. It seems so long ago for me and yet close enough to touch.”
    “A lot different from Houston.”
    “Houston has its own beauty,” Lina said absently, listening to the jungle. “The rush and tumble of human life, the feeling of being within a giant’s heartbeat, shops offering goods from all over the world, the rhythms of different languages.”
    “And the artifacts that tie past and present together,” Hunter said.
    “That most of all. The people who lived in the Yucatan before the Spanish have always fascinated me. The resort cities…not so much. They don’t seem quite real, like they landed from outer space.”
    The ticks and pops of the cooling engine blended with the random animal noises of the jungle that surrounded the compound. Though neither Lina nor Hunter said anything, they weren’t eager to leave the intimacy of the vehicle and the conversation that had nothing to do with blood and fear.
    “I’ve never been able to decide which I like better,” Hunter said, “exploring the marshes of my childhood or the jungles of my adulthood.”
    “What about cities?”
    “A great place to get supplies, clean clothes, some shows, good food, and see friends. Overall, I prefer greenery to cement. But I’ll take a big city over a small town any day. My uncles are the opposite. They hate cities and love Brownsville.”
    “I’m torn between my love of being on a dig and the richness of knowledge that comes with a city,” Lina admitted. “I finally realized that I need both.”
    “Me, too.” Hunter linked his fingers with hers, savoring the smooth warmth of her hand in his.
    She leaned close enough to smooth his hair back from his face with her free hand. He turned slightly and kissed her palm.
    “I suppose we have to go in,” she said.
    “Probably. Someone is sure to have noticed us by now. Is your neck itching?”
    Her smile was bright in the darkness. “I’m used to beingwatched by family when I’m here. I am the only Reyes Balam of my generation.”
    “No wonder you live in Houston. Nobody there is nagging you to be barefoot and pregnant.”
    “And married,” she said. “That’s very important to my family.”
    “What about you?”
    “If it happens, wonderful. But there’s no nail-biting frenzy to get it done. I don’t want the kind of marriage my parents have.”
    More lights came on at the front of the big house. A second row of knee-high lights came on along the main walkway to the house.
    “I think that’s our cue,” Hunter said.
    She sighed. “Good-bye, privacy. Don’t get me wrong. I love my family, but they can be overwhelming.”
    “I’ve never met a family that wasn’t.”
    Neither moved to get out of the Bronco. Hunter studied as much of the estate as he could see.
    Lina studied him.
    Despite architectural differences, the various buildings managed to blend together into a