half-dragged, half-lifted me the rest of the way to a narrow ridge.
“Look down there.”
“What am I loo—? Oh, wait…” I dropped my voice and crouched down to watch the scene unfolding before me. “Beavers.”
“Yeah. They set up shop last year. Ponded the stream in no time, been expanding it ever since.”
Moving for a better viewpoint I found a spot free of rocks and settled onto my butt, my arms wrapped around my knees. Jack moved in behind me, his long legs straddling me until I nested into the cradle of his warm body, his hands resting lightly on my thighs.
To my credit, I didn’t twitch, my attention zeroing in on the two beavers busily going about their business.
“Do they have young?”
“Not this year. Least ways, I don’t think so.”
His hands left my thighs. The vacated skin felt cold in the humid, still air. But his strong legs continued to grip me, pulling my body squarely into his massive chest. My torso vibrated to each ragged breath, his lungs drawing in great gulps of air, in, out, in, out.
Then it stopped. He’d withdrawn. Mentally I prepared myself to get up and leave. He’d brought me to his secret place and shared a moment in time with me.
That was more than Robert had ever done.
Gathering my legs under me I prepared to lunge forward but his thighs scissored me in a vice grip, anchoring me in place. I could have felt trapped. Instead I felt safe.
“Whose idea was this?” He was pawing at the braids, gently releasing the tangle of knotted hair from the restraining hairband.
“Chazz. Um, it was sort of his idea. He had help.”
“Jesus, not Seimone.”
I giggled, “Yes, Seimone,” still keeping my voice low, not wanting to disturb or chase off the diligent creatures working hard below us.
Snorting gently, he murmured, “She does most of my boys.” When he said it, it sounded the way I’d first taken it. “But Seimone’s okay.” I had no idea what that meant.
Jack tugged at the individual bands securing the ends of each braid. My scalp had itched terribly when Seimone had first done ‘the arrangement’ as she called it. Coach’s fumbling brought that sensation back tenfold.
When he asked, “Do you mind if I take them out?” I merely hummed my assent.
Time went into some form of stasis. Nothing seemed to move other than the slow meandering of the beavers in the pond below us, the wake lapping at the mini-shoreline and dissipating on the clay and gravel basin. Other than an occasional crack of a dry limb moving in a breeze too high up to impact us in the lower reaches of the forest, not a twitter or rustle could be heard. All things wild were napping.
Jack’s fingers were magic as he unraveled the strands.
“I’m going to leave some in,” he tapped on my skull, not quite at the dome, “just enough to give me something to—” He abruptly stopped and took a shallow breath.
“Um, to what?”
“Nothing.”
Nothing was something. I wanted closure. Call me a girl. Was he about to say ‘something I can run my hands through’?
Please let it be that.
Instead he pulled me close, arms embracing me, head resting lightly on top of mine. Reflex had me fingering the rings.
“There’s five of us.” I tensed, then realized he was picking up where he’d left off before we’d found the pond. “Cade ’n me are the only boys. He didn’t want nothing to do with ranching so he took off when he was seventeen. Didn’t hear for a while but it worked out.”
“How so.”
“Him and the youngest, Agnes, both ended up in the military. Cade in the Army, Aggie in the Navy. Both done some tours and are out now. Got jobs. Married. Couple kids each.”
That sounded nice. Normal. I said as much.
“What about the others?” meaning his sisters.
“Anne and Astride,” he choked on a laugh and continued, “Mom was determined to use the letter ‘A’ until she got her some boys.”
“So, shouldn’t you and your brother have names beginning with
“Look down there.”
“What am I loo—? Oh, wait…” I dropped my voice and crouched down to watch the scene unfolding before me. “Beavers.”
“Yeah. They set up shop last year. Ponded the stream in no time, been expanding it ever since.”
Moving for a better viewpoint I found a spot free of rocks and settled onto my butt, my arms wrapped around my knees. Jack moved in behind me, his long legs straddling me until I nested into the cradle of his warm body, his hands resting lightly on my thighs.
To my credit, I didn’t twitch, my attention zeroing in on the two beavers busily going about their business.
“Do they have young?”
“Not this year. Least ways, I don’t think so.”
His hands left my thighs. The vacated skin felt cold in the humid, still air. But his strong legs continued to grip me, pulling my body squarely into his massive chest. My torso vibrated to each ragged breath, his lungs drawing in great gulps of air, in, out, in, out.
Then it stopped. He’d withdrawn. Mentally I prepared myself to get up and leave. He’d brought me to his secret place and shared a moment in time with me.
That was more than Robert had ever done.
Gathering my legs under me I prepared to lunge forward but his thighs scissored me in a vice grip, anchoring me in place. I could have felt trapped. Instead I felt safe.
“Whose idea was this?” He was pawing at the braids, gently releasing the tangle of knotted hair from the restraining hairband.
“Chazz. Um, it was sort of his idea. He had help.”
“Jesus, not Seimone.”
I giggled, “Yes, Seimone,” still keeping my voice low, not wanting to disturb or chase off the diligent creatures working hard below us.
Snorting gently, he murmured, “She does most of my boys.” When he said it, it sounded the way I’d first taken it. “But Seimone’s okay.” I had no idea what that meant.
Jack tugged at the individual bands securing the ends of each braid. My scalp had itched terribly when Seimone had first done ‘the arrangement’ as she called it. Coach’s fumbling brought that sensation back tenfold.
When he asked, “Do you mind if I take them out?” I merely hummed my assent.
Time went into some form of stasis. Nothing seemed to move other than the slow meandering of the beavers in the pond below us, the wake lapping at the mini-shoreline and dissipating on the clay and gravel basin. Other than an occasional crack of a dry limb moving in a breeze too high up to impact us in the lower reaches of the forest, not a twitter or rustle could be heard. All things wild were napping.
Jack’s fingers were magic as he unraveled the strands.
“I’m going to leave some in,” he tapped on my skull, not quite at the dome, “just enough to give me something to—” He abruptly stopped and took a shallow breath.
“Um, to what?”
“Nothing.”
Nothing was something. I wanted closure. Call me a girl. Was he about to say ‘something I can run my hands through’?
Please let it be that.
Instead he pulled me close, arms embracing me, head resting lightly on top of mine. Reflex had me fingering the rings.
“There’s five of us.” I tensed, then realized he was picking up where he’d left off before we’d found the pond. “Cade ’n me are the only boys. He didn’t want nothing to do with ranching so he took off when he was seventeen. Didn’t hear for a while but it worked out.”
“How so.”
“Him and the youngest, Agnes, both ended up in the military. Cade in the Army, Aggie in the Navy. Both done some tours and are out now. Got jobs. Married. Couple kids each.”
That sounded nice. Normal. I said as much.
“What about the others?” meaning his sisters.
“Anne and Astride,” he choked on a laugh and continued, “Mom was determined to use the letter ‘A’ until she got her some boys.”
“So, shouldn’t you and your brother have names beginning with
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