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Authors: Mary Tate Engels

A Rare Breed (19 page)

BOOK: A Rare Breed
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"Put it around your waist."

"I don't need it. I can climb okay."

"Just to be safe."

"Jake, I did this yesterday without any assistance."

"But it was risky. Do it for me."

Brit sighed and clipped the line around her waist. Then she began the climb, stepping care-fully, determined not to make a mistake. She grinned triumphantly as she neared the top. But suddenly, just as she was taking the last step and was reaching for Jake's hand, she slipped. Her foot missed the carved notch and scraped the wall, throwing her whole body off balance. Bouncing hard against the sheer rock, she scrambled and clawed for a hand or foothold in stone that seemed suddenly as smooth as wet tiles.

Abruptly, the rope cinched her waist, jerking short her descent. Jake grunted with exertion as he held tightly and tugged until she found a foothold. Then, hand over hand, he hauled her to the top. Gasping for breath, she clutched him, burying her face in the sanctuary of his chest.

His arms encircled her, drawing her tight against him. "Oh God, Brit! Are you all right?" he kept repeating.

"Yes," she said, her voice muffled against him. She tried to gather her wits and stay calm, but the realization that she could have plunged twenty feet down a rocky cliff left her quaking.

"I'm okay. Just, a little shaky in the knees. Thank God you were here, Jake."

"Thank God you used the lifeline."

They stood there for a long time, arms wrapped around each other, clinging to their own private security. Finally, she lifted her head and, still leaning against him, murmured, "Thanks, Jake. You always seem to be there when one of us needs you."

"What an ugly birthday this could have been. A fall like that would have netted you a broken leg, at least. I'm still weak-kneed."

"You? That's hard to imagine." She managed a little laugh.

"Imagine me scared through and through." His dark eyes were serious. "I'm quivering inside like jelly." His hands stroked her hair as she nestled against him. "The thought of you getting hurt tears me up inside."

"Thank goodness you made me use that noose around my wai
st. It saved me. Everything hap
pened so fast, I don't even know what I did wrong. One minute I was okay, and next, I was dangling."

"You must have missed that last step. Disaster can happen fast here."

"It's a very dangerous place," she admitted softly. "Both Yolanda and I have discovered that the hard way." She kissed him heartily. "Now you have two women who are forever grateful for our lives."

"Wonder how I can use that?" He returned the kiss with one on her ear lobe.

"My hero.”

"I’m no hero. Just doing what’s right."

"Does that mean you don't want to be a hero, or you don't want to act like one?"

He brushed his nose against her. "I don't want to be called one. I'm just an ordinary guy, doing what anyone else would have done under the same circumstances."

"Not true," she protested and reached up with both hands to grasp his lean face. "You are not an ordinary man at all. You are . . . rare, Jake. Very rare, indeed. And I am very lucky." She stood on tiptoe and kissed him again, hard and long.

Finally, they got down to work documenting the remaining rooms of Casa Patio. Amidst the potsherds they found remnants of a turkey- feather blanket, shoes made of woven reeds, and a clay doll. Jake lifted it carefully and handed it to Brit. "Nearly a thousand years old. What a find! I think we should take this back to the museum, along with the mosaic shell, for safe-keeping."

Brit cradled the crudely made figure in one hand. "Is it a child's toy or a ceremonial statue?"

"Looks like a toy. It isn't a deity shape, more like a baby or a child. And there are no indications that it's for anything other than play. There are even traces of clothes." He picked up a tiny
piece of something pliable found nearby. "This might be a scrap of a leather or skin garment."

"How amazing!" Brit examined the figure. "Imagine that a child played with this and actually lived here in this room."

"Many families lived here. Whole families, Brit, not just adults or men on a hunting trip. This was their settlement, their community."

Brit grew somber. "The dangers they faced daily must have been tremendous. Just getting up here was risky. Living here, with a child, must have been awful."

"Right. Good observations." Jake walked out to the patio ledge where he'd left his backpack and equipment. Taking out a special cloth, he began to wrap the doll.

Brit joined him and sat down on the rock patio. She peered over the edge to where she would have fallen. "Jake, the Indians who lived here had the same problems, didn't they? If one of them slipped . . ."

He gave her a long gaze. "Yes. They suffered the inevitable consequences. We've found skeletons of early peoples with broken legs or backs, and you can assume what happened to them."

Brit shivered. "Maybe that's one reason these people left. It's too dangerous for families. Okay for sturdy, careful adults, but not for children."

Jake packed the doll away in his backpack and sat next to her on the ledge. "You've got a good point. The Anasazi were a social culture. They worked together. And raising healthy children meant their own preservation. If their children couldn't make it where they chose to live, I suppose they changed. It's possible. Anything logical is possible."

Brit's gaze drifted to the turquoise pool and silver waterfall. Then she looked back at Jake. Is anything possible with us? she wondered. What about love? Is it logical?

They worked through lunch, nibbling peanut butter crackers and drinking sodas while they finished documenting the rooms. Brit's fingers skimmed over the computer keys as Jake dictated what he wanted in the report.

"I can't believe you can type that fast," he marveled.

"I'm just getting your words down. We'll work on the format and spelling later."

"We should have this ruin finished in a few days at this rate."

"Really? Then we can go home?"

He nodded without meeting her eyes. Neither of them wanted to face that prospect. And yet, they knew it was coming.

When they had finished working for the day, they went to the pool. Brit slipped off her moccasins and socks and began wading in the shallows. The sun was warm on her skin and sparkled off the water. A multicolored spray radiated from the waterfall and occasionally gave them a chilling sprinkle. Brit turned her face up to a perfectly clear blue sky. Not a cloud was in sight. With arms outstretched, she danced by herself, feeling thoroughly happy. "What a glorious day for a birthday!"

Jake left his shoes and socks on the beach and joined her. "It isn't over yet."

She whirled to face him. "What's Yolanda planning? Come on, tell me, Jake!"

"No way!"

She took after him. "Tell me! Please!"

He caught her in his arms and bent her back for a kiss. "A canyon party, like none you've ever had."

"Then I need to wash my hair."

"Wash it?" He stroked her hair. "Why?"

She fluffed the blond curls. "My hair hasn't been done all week. It must be a mess."

He mussed it purposely with one hand. "It's great. Very natural."

"But, it'll be better when it's washed. Did you bring shampoo?"

He laughed and set her upright. "No, but I brought soap."

They ran to the beach and began to strip. Jake finished first and dug into the backpack for the soap. "Here. Come with me. I’ll do your hair."

"You?" She laughingly followed him back into the water.

"Of course. Nothing to it." He knelt in the shallows. "Come here, Brit. Lay your head back in my lap."

She eyed what he called his lap. Tightly muscled thighs. "I don't know if this will work."

"Just watch. This is the native way. Another research project. I'll bet the Anasazi washed their hair this way."

Giggling with the newness of the experience, she lay back in the water, resting her head on his sinewy thighs. He cradled her head with one hand and dipped cold water over her scalp with the other.

Making a rich lather between his palms, he started by digging his fingers through her hair, scrubbing alternately roughly, then tenderly. He covered her head, his fingers working, touching, rubbing, applying soothing pressure.

She closed her eyes and let his fingers work their magic on her. Ripples of euphoria ran from her scalp down her back to her toes. Brit felt entirely relaxed, felt as if she were floating through thousands of fingers that caressed her entire body. Abruptly he dipped her head into the cold water.

"Eek!"

"Gotta rinse it good, right?"

"Do you have any conditioner?"

"Nope. Only this clear, pure water."

He rinsed her hair with the same scrubbing motion that he used washing it. His fingers spread across her scalp and squeaked through her hair. Then she felt his lips on hers, his hands turning her in the water, his legs bracing her, supporting her thighs as he slid her across his
body.

She became lost in the kiss and unaware of her body until she realized that they were out of the pool. He lay on the beach and she was sprawled over him. She could feel his taut male body beneath her breasts and thighs. He was hard and ready for her. The sun warmed her back, sending the radiation through her body, setting her on fire for him.

She moaned and planted her knees on either side of his hips, bracing herself on his chest. Brit watched Jake's face change from seriousness to ecstasy as she lowered her body over his, slowly taking him fully into her. She sat up, feeling a certain mastery, a kind of dominance over this strong brown man who submitted so willingly to her. And,
unexplainably, she felt a grow
ing joy that spread through her as they started to rock together.

She moved closer, faster, furiously. She found the position a good place to watch him, to ad-mire his physique, to observe his expressions. She lurched and lunged, reaching her climax with a high yelp of elation that echoed against the rocks and water. As she slumped on his chest, arms and legs entwined with his, she felt a complete and fulfilling exhilaration. She and Jake were a continuation of the ancient societies of the canyon and joyful participants in the bliss of this beautiful Shangri-la.

They remained in each other's arms. Being alone together was all that mattered now. Brit felt a happiness and fulfillment like she had never known. Before Jake, she would never have dreamed that love could be this wonderful. It was a warmth that permeated her life and made her days joyous and her nights glorious. Oh Lord, she never wanted this to end. But, end it must.

He stirred. "We should be getting back."

She wiggled. "I know. I just hate to move."

"Me, too. A bath in the pool?"

"Yeah."

They bathed each other in a most sensuous, loving way. Brit scrubbed his back. Jake combed her hair gently with his fingers. She'd never known a man who was such an excellent lover, who cared for her enough to wash her hair, and could be so very gentle and rough at the same time. Every day he taught her something new. Every day she learned something remarkable about him. Every day she cared more for him and dreaded the time when they would have to part.

When they were finally dressed, the sun was setting.

"Hurry. It'll be dark soon." Jake heaved the backpack onto his shoulders and started walking. "Come on. Almost party time."

Brit caught up with him. "Jake, tell me what Yolanda's planning. I don't like surprises."

"Just that a Grand Canyon party is like none other," he warned with a teasing grin. "One has to be so creative and inventive down here."

Brit followed behind Jake, wondering what in the world they had planned. She would always remember this day, not because of a party, but because of what she and Jake shared.

 

Chapter Nine

 

When Brit and Jake reached the camp, it was nearly dark, and there was a different spirit in the air. Brit could feel the anticipation, even before they arrived. Something was going on, and she found it exciting. The first thing she noticed was a dull clanking that disrupted the eternal quiet of the place.

"What's that noise?" she demanded.

"You'll have to wait and see," Jake responded mysteriously. Yolanda had told him not to be surprised at anything, but he was as curious as Brit about this strange clanking.

"Sounds like . . . cheap wind chimes."

"Hold on, now. Nothing down here is cheap. It's probably all natural."

As soon as Yolanda saw them, she waved and called loudly, "Hi, you two! All right, Rudi, the birthday girl is back and it's party time!"

When they got closer, Brit could see that draped in the trees and around the tent were decorative streamers made of tin cans strung together with socks and tee shirts and briefs. They had to be Jake's since no one else had extra underwear. "They've raided your duffle bag, Jake!" she said, shrieking with laughter.

BOOK: A Rare Breed
11.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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