Ride Free (2 page)

She nodded, and her smile faded. “How’s my father?”

Bill shook his head. “The same.”

She nodded and breathed deeply through her nose. “I didn’t really expect anything different.”

He nodded and motioned for her to leave. “Go. The ladies have worked hard on tonight’s potluck, and seeing you will be a gift to them.”

The kitchen in the community hall burst at the seams with women and children rushing about with various foods clutched in their hands. She stood inside the doorway, the familiar tugging on her heart.

The same group of people who taught her everything a mother teaches a daughter busied themselves with preparations for the fundraiser. She smiled tenderly. Growing up, the women of her tribe had taken her under their wing, taught her how to cook, how to fix her hair, and how to sew when her own mother neglected the most basic maternal guidance. Each one held a special place in her heart for giving her the attention she craved years ago.

Her own parents might have lacked the loving skills needed to raise a child, but she’d been cared for by the tribe. Her lonely upbringing could’ve been a lot lonelier if it weren’t for these special women in her life.

She ruffled the hair of a small girl running past her for the door. “Anyone need an extra pair of hands?”

Several women raised their heads, and at the sight of Sarah, threw up their arms and hurried toward her. She choked on a laugh and let them pass her from one person to the next. She squeezed them to her chest. Every one of these ladies fed, clothed, and guided her through her childhood, and she missed the daily interactions.

“How long are you staying for?” Allena ran both hands down Sarah’s cheeks, wiping the joyous tears off her face.

Sarah pulled Allena in for one more hug. “Not long. Just for the powwow.”

Roberta leaned closer. “Are you going to see your father? Please don’t go over there alone. Take one of us if you must see him.”

Sarah blew out a breath. Her shoulders fell, and she shook her head. Chief Bill had already informed her nothing had changed, and she decided today was a day for the young Browntail boy, not family drama.

“No, I’m not going over there. Maybe next time.” She squared her shoulders. “Now, take me to the kitchen. We’ve got work to do.”

***

The sun dipped behind the trees on the horizon, and a few of the men lit the ceremonial fire in the middle of the ring of people. Sarah sat with Allena’s family and pulled the blanket tighter around herself to ward off the chill that came with the night.

The soft
thump thump
of the drums broke though the voices in the crowd and brought an ethereal hum over the Winapiti people. Sarah closed her eyes and sent a prayer of charity up into the smoke of the fire for the littlest Browntail.

Please see that tonight’s activities bring the Browntail family enough money to get the care the young boy deserves. Watch over him, and make him strong enough to fight his ailments.

The music grew louder, stronger, and several dancers stomped the ground in beat with the drummers. Alenna’s dress brushed Sarah’s blanket, and she opened her eyes. The dances were always her favorite part of any ceremony.

Sarah swayed sideways and let the rhythm sweep her away. Her feet begged to move. She threw off the blanket and joined the others by the fire. Opening her arms wide, she threw back her head and closed her eyes. The music captured her soul and produced the steps needed to become one with the tom-tom.

Another faster, deeper drumming joined the others—one Sarah had never experienced—and she twirled around faster. Her heart sped up, and her breath came in great gasps. A tremendous excitement curled around the pit of her stomach, and she dared not stop for fear she’d lose the euphoria that overcame her.

Her hair floated off her shoulders, and the chant of the powerful pulse threatened the confines of her chest, wanting to break free. She lost herself in the song that reached her ears and spoke to her heart. Never once did she gaze at the other dancers or the drummers, but instead gave herself the freedom to express her emotions through the music that flowed through her bloodstream.

The drumming that led her people slowly died down, leaving only the tom-tom to finish the opening dance. The strumming that dictated the love in her heart departed, and her own pulse returned. She bent at the waist, hands on her knees, and sucked air into her lungs. Exhausted and energized at the same time, she’d never experienced a dance quite like this one.

It spoke to the hidden part inside her—the part she showed no one, not even herself. It wiped away the doubts, the self-destruction, and the guilt she lived with from her parents. Cleansed from the inside out, she stood, only then realizing the others had left her to dance alone, to share in the spirit that moved her.

Sarah turned to the drummers to find who played the extra loud thrumming that sent her heart flying in the middle of the song, and instead her gaze extended beyond the instruments to the crowd gathered. She gasped.

How can this be?

The fire reflected off the chrome of the motorcycles, and she knew that the darkened shadows beside the bikes could only be the gang that rode into town earlier. She ran out of the circle. In her blind path to get away and hide from the embarrassment of opening herself up to not only the people she grew up with, but also in front of complete strangers, she ran in the direction of her past.

She didn’t run very far because she was winded from the dance and the excitement over the arrival of the motorcycle gang. Her legs trembled, and she leaned against a worn-down fence. The familiar splintered wood beneath her palms and the broken glass bottle lying between her spread feet somehow brought her back to reality.

The house contained inside the dilapidated fence sat unlit and serene. Sarah laid her head on her folded arms on the top board and closed her eyes. She shut out the memories, angry that tonight of all nights they invaded her space. Usually she kept them at bay and only permitted them out on her terms.

“Are you okay?”

Her head snapped up, and the pressure she put on the picket fence threatened to push it over. She recognized the voice, and to find her dream man in front of her took her breath away.
Ellen was right. The end man came.

He held his hands up. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“W-What are you doing here?”

He gestured in the direction of the powwow. “We often stop to help those in need. I hope we didn’t scare you… I saw the look in your eyes when you noticed my family watching you dance.”

“No!” She stepped closer and laughed nervously. “I mean, no, you didn’t scare me. Startled, perhaps. I’m sorry, this isn’t coming out right.”

He folded his arms and relaxed his stance. She caught her lower lip between her teeth. Should she explain or ask him a million and two questions about his life on the road?

“What are you doing here?” She wrinkled her nose.
Good question, stupid. You might as well have asked him to strip naked and dance to the moon.

He shrugged and swept his hair back. “One of the guys at the gas station a few miles down the road spoke about a fund-raiser for a little boy. We had no plans, so thought we’d stick around and help out.”

“Yes, the youngest. I can never remember his name. There are eight children in the family—” She waved her hand. “I’m sorry about earlier today. I really wanted to say yes.”

She bit down on her bottom lip. The lack of light forced her to lean forward to read his expressions.

He cocked his eyebrow. “Yes?”

She slapped her forehead and stepped back. Of course he wouldn’t remember her from earlier. Surely he didn’t have a fetish about women who hid behind rose bushes the way she fantasized about bikers.

“Earlier today, I watched you ride down the street in Astoria. You turned around and asked me if I wanted a ride.” She toed the dirt and shook her head. “That’s what I was apologizing for…turning you down.”

“I know.”

“You know? But—” She laughed.
Oh God, he remembers me.

He brushed a strand of hair by her cheek over her shoulder. “The moment I noticed you dancing, I knew you were the woman I talked to earlier. Your hair, the way you move…it gave you away. I don’t think I’ve known anyone with hair dark as midnight, that seems to come to life when they move.”

“This is incredible. I mean, what are the chances? I came here tonight with the hope you might show up. Ellen said you would, but I thought she pulled a fast one over on me. I never dreamed you’d really show up.” She leaned into his touch, enjoying the way he caressed her cheek.

“Karma.” He lowered his head.

He hovered over her, his mouth close enough to steal a kiss. Sarah arched her neck and held her breath. She searched his brown eyes, trying to figure out what he was thinking. His gaze was unreadable, resembling liquid pools of obsidian that blocked her view to his thoughts.

A loud creak followed by a dull thud broke them apart. He pushed her behind him. An empty bottle landed a few feet from her and shattered into pieces.

“Hey! Watch it.” The man reached behind him, keeping her safe.

The shuffling of footsteps across the wooden porch stopped. “Get out of here, you son of a bitch! Don’t make me come down there. I will—”

The man stumbled and fell against the house, but remained on his feet.

Chapter Three

Sarah stepped to go around her protector, but he nudged her back with his hand. She clutched at the back of his shirt. Her heart raced, and she became light-headed. Detached from the scene that played out in front of her, she’d give anything to grab the man’s hand and drag him away from the house.

“Leave my property!”

Another bottle followed the first, and Sarah realized the man heading toward them was picking them out of the grass.

“Hey, hang on. We’re just talking. We’ll leave, no problem, mister.” Her hero in black leather clasped her hand in his. He kept her on the other side of his body, well protected from flying bottles.

The man poised with another empty bottle raised in the air. “Get going, and take your bitch with you.”

The hand Sarah held yanked her backward out of harm’s way. She tightened her grip, refusing to let go of his hand.
Why did this have to happen now?

He turned his back to the man and pried Sarah’s fingers from his hand. “I’m sorry I have to do this, but I won’t allow anyone to degrade a woman in front of me.”

He brushed a kiss against her forehead and turned. Helpless, Sarah reached out, but only caught air. He jumped the sorry-excuse for a fence in one leap and marched across the littered lawn.

“Don’t! Please.” She hurried over and stood against the fence. She squared her shoulders, refusing to show how embarrassed and ashamed she was over the way her father behaved.

“Da, go inside.” She started at the man who allowed alcohol to rule his life. Unkempt, weathered, and smelling of the drinks he consumed, her da squinted in her direction. She wondered if he even recognized her in the drunken fog that separated them.

“Sari?” Her da stepped forward, but Motorcycle Man pressed a hand into his chest and stopped him. “Is that you, girl? Where the hell is your ma?”

“Ma’s dead. Go back in the house, Da. I’ll send Bill to check on you later.” Sarah’s hands trembled at her sides. She crossed her arms and fought to keep from crying for the life she wanted, instead of the life handed to her. Sensitive nerves radiated throughout her body, and she weakened.

The shell of a man who she called Da ambled back toward the house, his head down, his shoulders hunched against the cold hard truth. Her gaze remained on his back, but she saw out of the corner of her vision that Motorcycle Man had returned to her side.

Her da shut the door, but it didn’t latch and remained open a few inches. The clink of glass and the inevitable shatter of broken bottles reached out to Sarah. Her chest rose as she inhaled through her nose, and she drew strength from past experiences. Her da didn’t welcome any help from her; he only sought to escape reality.

“Let’s walk.” Motorcycle Man urged her back in the direction of the powwow, his hand resting gently above her jeans.

She gazed over her shoulder but continued to take one step after another away from her childhood home. She’d gone down this road with her da on more than one occasion. Her involvement only brought out memories for her father that he’d rather forget, and each time he sunk even further into self-destruction.

“Are you okay?”

She stopped, cocked her head, and pursed her lips to the side. “Yep, right as rain.”

He nodded, but his gaze studied her. “Sari—”

“Sarah.” She cleared her throat. “My name is Sarah.”

“That’s a nice name. You look like a Sarah.” He strummed her cheek with his thumb. “You don’t have to explain what happened back there, but I’d like to know if you have to return to that house tonight.”

She shook her head. “I have my own apartment off the reservation, in Astoria.”

“Good.” His thumb continued to stroke the top of her cheek, right below her eye.

She relaxed her neck, and he supported her head in his big, capable hands. Her eyelids drifted down, and her tongue came out to wet her bottom lip.

“Sarah? I’m going to kiss you.” He ran his thumb over her bottom lip.

She parted her mouth at his admission, nodded, and welcomed him.

He brushed his lips against hers, tasting, teasing, until gently pulling away.

She straightened her head and opened her eyes. “Wait. I don’t even know your name.”

He pulled her into his arms, and the way he mumbled “Reefer” against the sensitive skin at the base of her ear set her world on fire. He kissed her again, urging her to open her mouth for him. The warm moistness of his tongue teased and titillated her desire for the man who rode the end of the line.

Reefer’s arms wrapped around her back, and he bent her backward. She held on to him, afraid he’d stop. Call her crazy, but she’d already decided she’d give him everything—her body, her mind, her kisses—if only for a few more minutes spent in his arms.