Food packs had run out. Suddenly, the soldiers were beating on the pickup roof, yelling, "Go! Go!" Louise’s passenger door opened, and the white blur of the sister flew inside shouting, "Rapido! Rapido!" From out of the jungle, the men came toward them, long sharp machetes in their hands. She started the pickup; it died-twice.
Louise had come to Honduras to teach for one year in a mission school on the primitive and dangerous North Coast. The one year became seventeen. She learned to live with razor-sharp machetes and guns; dealt with robbers, insects and coral snakes; survived the devastating 1998 hurricane; and endured the unrelenting, intense tropical heat.
In the midst of it all, he was there-the tall, handsome mariachi from the mountains, who became her devoted protector against the many untold dangers of this beautiful but alien paradise.