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silently.
    The corner of his mouth tipped upward. “You said you needed a cow . . . I think.”
    â€œMother!” Annie declared in half-giggle, half-horror.
    â€œI’m more checked out on travel Spanish than rural,” he admitted, breaking into a full grin.
    â€œWhat did the operator say?” Karen asked, plopping down on the bed next to Caroline. Her dark eyes, like her father’s, danced with delight.
    Caroline focused on the floor, head shaking. With a “Sí, muchas gracias, Señora,” she hung up the phone. “So much for high school Spanish.”
    â€œHey, all you have to do is brush ten years’ or so worth of dust off it, and you’ll be fine.”
    Caroline cut her gaze toward Blaine. “Very gallant, but add a few or so’s worth to that ten.”
    â€œAs long as you have both feet planted on the ground, I have complete faith in you.”
    â€œAnd so do we,” Annie proclaimed, as she threw herself across the bed.
    â€œEven if I have to sleep on a tablecloth next to a cow,” Karen added, grinning.
    Caroline ruffled Annie’s ponytail. “You two would do anything to be footloose in Mexico.”
    â€œHave a good time, troops, and don’t drink the water or take anything from anyone on the street to carry back to the States.” Blaine closed the door between the rooms, dodging the girls’ indignation.
    â€œLike, duh.” Karen rolled her eyes towards the ceiling. “Hector already warned us.”
    â€œAnd Señora Marron, and every other adult on the planet,” the other girl chimed in. “It’s like everyone thinks we missed 9-11.”
    â€œThen it’s good to know that you remember so well what you were told.” Caroline grabbed her shoulder bag from the bed and struck a tour guide pose. “Let’s went.”

CHAPTER 4
    After cashing some travelers’ checks into colorful denominations of pesos, Caroline led the girls around the block from the hotel, where, according to the moneychanger, there was a KFC. Annie and Karen were starved, but not enough to try the food from the street vendors. Enchiladas, tacos, and corn on the cob served with chili, mayonnaise, and lime, it looked and smelled delicious. But sanitation didn’t appear to be high on many of the owners’ lists, so Caroline yielded to the plea to find some American food.
    The scent of fresh pan dulce and roasting coffee beans from the sidewalk espresso café beside them was making her tummy growl in protest, when Karen pointed to a red-and-white sign that seemed to blend into the line of canopies, marquees, and lights.
    â€œThere’s the Colonel!”
    Inside, the restaurant had the same decor as the one in downtown Edenton. With a minimum of fuss, they purchased their meals and found a table.
    The potatoes tasted a little strange, most likely the result of being made with heavily treated water. Caroline advised the girls to skip the spuds and slaw in favor of the biscuits. “The last thing we need is Montezuma’s revenge.”
    â€œMy dad does business here all the time, and he’s never had that.” Karen twirled her straw inside her can of soda. “But he carries enough milk of magnesia for an army . . . like a gallon or something.”
    â€œThat was one of the suggestions in the pamphlet that Señora Marron handed out before the trip,” Caroline reminded her. She had a travel-size bottle in her own case. “He travels a lot, does he?”
    â€œAll over the world, but mostly in the States, Canada, and Mexico.” A cloud settled on the girl’s face. “You’d think he’d want to show it to me . . . Mexico City. After all, I am his daughter.”
    â€œMaybe he’s just busy finishing up the business from this last trip so that he’ll be free tomorrow,” Annie said. She slurped the last of her Coke from the bottom of the can—another precaution.