Home at Chestnut Creek

by Laura Drake

  “Too bad we’re not here in the daytime; I bet it’s really pretty.”

  “It is. But I like it at night, too. Here, I’ll show you.” I take the flashlight and flip it off. “Sit.”

  She sits on the blanket, and I settle beside her. “Close your eyes.”

  The night sounds come alive. Water burbles over the rocks, speaking in a language I can almost understand. There’s a lone frog somewhere close, croaking a ballad, hoping to get lucky on a Saturday night. A coyote yips somewhere in the hills. Another joins him. Crickets start up a chorus. Smells come alive, too, the plants releasing the breath that they held through the hot hours of daylight. The creek smells of dank, cold places.

  “Now, tip your head back and open your eyes.”

  This far out of town, there’s no light to dim the show. The Milky Way is splashed above us, like a bucket of diamonds thrown across the sky.

  “Wow, you don’t see that in Houston.” She breathes. “In school, you study about outer space, but I didn’t realize you can actually see it, three-dimensionally.”

  “Back in the beginning, holy people placed crystals on a buckskin robe, a plan, to show the Diné how to live. Then a coyote came, and—”

  “That coyote sure gets around.”

  “He’s a problem. Anyway, he grabbed the robe and flung it, messing up the order the People had planned. That’s where the stars came from.”

  “I love your stories.” She reaches behind me, pulls the tie off my braid, and unravels it. “I love your hair, too.”

  The soft tugs feel good. I reach for her, but she scoots away.

  “Is there food in that basket? I’m starving.”

  I lay out the sandwiches, fruit, and brownies and we eat in companionable silence, serenaded by the night’s song.

  * * *

  Nevada

  I would never have thought hanging out in the desert at night would be interesting, but it is. The sound of the river calms my jitters, and it’s like the dark closed around us and we’re the only two people on earth.

  I wish.

  “Where do you see yourself in a year, Nevada?” Joseph’s voice is deep and calm.

  My heart taps a woodpecker’s warning on my breastbone. “What are you smoking? A drug cartel is after me. I’m hardly planning what dish pattern I’ll buy.”

  “Okay, but humor me.” I can’t see his expression, even though he’s turned my way. “What if that was all resolved? What would you want then?”

  “Why would I waste brainpower on that?” Thinking about what I don’t have doesn’t get me any closer to having it. I learned that before I learned to read.

  “Are you telling me you don’t have any dreams for the future?”

  “Not past staying alive.” It comes out pissy, but I don’t care. Pissy is how I feel.

  “That’s just sad. Don’t worry, we’ll find a way. I’ve been thinking about it, and I—”

  “Don’t.” The word cuts the night like a guillotine blade.

  “Don’t what?”

  I force my shoulders down and take a deep breath. No reason to get all spun up. I’m leaving Monday. Tomorrow would be better, but he’ll be home, and he’d try to stop me. “This isn’t your problem.”

  “What are you talking about? Of course it is.” He sounds a lot calmer than me.

  Okay, he’s not going to drop it, so the best way to distract him is to tell him what he wants to hear. I can dream with the best of them. I just don’t very often allow myself to. “If I were free, I’d steal your job and stay in this dumpy town forever.”

  “With me?”

  I can’t see his expression, but the hope in his tone makes my heart bound like a deer in hunting season. “I don’t know. Depends on how often you piss me off. I don’t need—”

  “Oh, really?” He moves fast, bowling me over and straddling me, holding my hands over my head. “I’m the one who should be complaining. You’re snarky, prickly, and you have no filter.”

  “And you love it. Admit it.” I’m laughing. I love how his hair hangs around us like a curtain, sealing us in.

  “I think I love you.”

  The word pierces my armor. The armor I’ve spent all my life building up, layer by layer. It shatters, falling away in chunks. Without it, I’m more naked than I’ve been in my life. Panic pushes through my veins. I have no fight against those words; I have only flight. I push against his chest, but he lowers himself, so we’re pressed together from toes to chest. His hands cradle my head and he leans in to kiss me.

  The sweetest, softest kiss in the history of the world. My world anyway. Tears prick the corners of my eyes. God, I wish…this. I hook a leg around his and roll until he’s under me.

  “I’m—”

  I push a finger to his lips. “Shhhh.” I peel my T-shirt over my head, then unhook my bra and toss it away. I run my hands up under his T-shirt, to sample all that smooth skin, as I lower myself to kiss him. His hard length pulses against me and my tongue rehearses what will happen in just a few minutes. Sooner, if I have my way.

  He rolls my nipples between his long fingers. It winds up my need. I feel a rush of wetness in my shorts. I sit back, and run my hands down his hard abs, to where his hips jut.

  A wisp of a breeze flows over my hot skin, and I shiver.

  “You’re so beautiful in the moonlight,” he whispers.

  I’ve never been beautiful. But there’s a naked honesty in his voice that makes me know he thinks so. And that’s all I care about. I’d planned to take my time, to tease him, but I was kidding myself; I want him too bad to wait. I slip out of my shorts, then peel down the top of his until he springs free. He sucks in a breath and holds it as I guide myself over him. I might not last long, but I’m not messing up this part. I lower myself slow, and he slides into my slick heat. It seems forever until I’m resting on his hipbones. I’m panting, my body straining, but I hold still.

  His hands come up, but I grab them, and lace my fingers in his. Hold, hold, hold. Then I start to rock, slow and easy. His fingers tighten to fists, and I feel the vibration of his taut muscles in my hands. I move forward in long, delicious strokes for me, back in short, hard thrusts for him.

  Things speed up. He’s moving beneath me, and I’m grinding into him, my muscles pulling, releasing, pulling…He rises to meet me and I throw my head back, riding his buck, both of us straining to get us where we want to be. Then, suddenly, we’re there. I collapse on him, biting his pec muscle to anchor me from shattering in tiny, scattering pieces, like the blanket of stars flung by the coyote.

  I’m sprawled on top of him, my muscles liquid, his chest rising and falling beneath my cheek, settling into a more normal rhythm, when I realize that leaving him is going to do more than hurt. It’s going to flat tear me up.

  I listen to his strong heart, beating under my ear. Taking what we’ve both wanted will come with a price that we’ll both pay. I’m not sorry for me. I wouldn’t have missed this for anything. But Joseph…

  I’m torn between two emotions you shouldn’t be able to feel at the same time: thankfulness and regret.

  Chapter 16

  Nevada

  Sex indoors is civilized and focused, but sex outdoors blows my mind. It’s like your awareness expands and the night takes you in, making you a part of it. Lying there afterward, staring up at the sky, thinking about all the other species, out in the dark, doing what comes natural. Maybe this is what Joseph was saying; that we’re all just a tiny part of a huge plan.

  Kinda nice to think that. Takes some of the responsibility off you.

  I make a trip to the creek to clean up, then come back to help. He’s turned on the truck lights, so we can see to pack everything up. I can’t believe this beautiful man is mine, at least for another day. I’m so grateful for the warm spot in my chest—he’s given me a break from my aloneness and, even more, proved that someone could want me, if things were different. “This was the best date ever, Joseph; thank you.”

  �
�The pleasure was all mine.” His warm smile offsets the eyebrow waggle. “Well, maybe not all of it…”

  I toss the blanket at him. “So now you’re gonna brag?”

  “Never.”

  We climb in the truck, and when I roll the window down, night-scented air flows in. I rest my arm on the windowsill and watch the gray shadows fly by. The whirlwind inside me has calmed, and for once, I’m thinking about nothing. Is this how most people are? Carefree and relaxed? I can’t seem to achieve it for more than a few snatched minutes at a time.

  “Nevada?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Will you come out to the rez with me, to meet my mom…and everyone?”

  I whip my head up, but he’s focused on the road ahead. In another girl’s world, I’d be ecstatic. But that’s not my world. I squirm inside, and to buy time, I take a swig from my water bottle.

  “Hey, it’s not like it’s a marriage proposal.”

  Water goes down the wrong pipe, and I choke, coughing water out the window. “Jeez, you trying to kill me?”

  He just smiles.

  The truth slams into me, popping the little bubble I’ve been living in the past two days. What was I thinking? This could never work. Even if a miracle happened, and I could stay, I’m never getting married. I’m not having kids ever. I had no role model for motherhood, and I’m not screwing up some poor innocent kid.

  That may not be what Joseph’s talking about right now, but I’m not stupid—it’s a turn down that road.

  I’m not the only one living in a bubble of denial. I could learn his language, his customs, his Gods, but a bilagáana is never going to fit his dream.

  And he’s the guy who dreams.

  Easier for me, because I don’t.

  His head is turned toward me, but I’m glad I can’t read his expression in the dash light. “I promise, you might get some odd looks, but no one’s going to bite you out there.”

  I try to smile, but what comes out feels like a piss-poor imitation. “Sure, okay.”

  So, a lie of omission. Sue me. I’m leaving Monday. No way I can put it off longer; I can almost feel Cisco getting closer.

  Maybe someday I can come back. Say a miracle happens, and Cisco drops dead of a heart attack or something. Hey, it could happen. The whole operation would fall apart without him. He only hires flunkies, brainless chumps who will follow orders without question; no competition who could take over the business. I’m sure the cartel would put someone in his place, but he’d have no reason to come after me—odds are, I’d be free.

  Bitterness fills me, overflowing into my throat. Even if somehow a miracle happened, it’d be better that I leave Joseph alone, to marry someone of his tribe. He’ll be happier in the long run.

  * * *

  Joseph

  It’s strange. Since I went to the rez, all the worry and uncertainty I was carrying inside are as gone as last winter. It’s like I was fighting my true path, and since I stopped, the road ahead has opened before me. I know what I want.

  Nevada told me she wants the same.

  I know I’m pushing her. I’m getting way ahead of ourselves. But when her problem is solved, I want to be ready to move forward. Because I have no doubt; the woman on the other side of the cab is meant to be mine. My grandmother knew it and led me to the answer. Now that I know it, I’m not letting her go. Ever.

  There’s just one obstacle in our road. And it’s a big one. The thought of Nevada facing that monster makes my blood chill in my veins. I want to keep her safe, but she’s so fierce and independent, if I tried to cage her, she’d be gone.

  One of the things I love most about her could drive her away from me. So I have to walk a very narrow line. I’ve spent every spare second trying to find an answer. I’ve thought about hunting this wolf down, but I’d be on his turf, with his people around him.

  I’m going to talk to her about us moving to the rez. If he’s determined to find her, he will. Better he come onto my turf, where strangers are noticed, and remarked upon.

  But if I told her tonight, she’d run. I’ll find a way tomorrow. She won’t be so spooky in the daylight.

  In the meantime, I’m on guard. Like when I was small, I am Manuelito, War Chief. This is a battle I can’t afford to lose.

  * * *

  Nevada

  I spend the drive home trying to make plans, even though I can’t think beyond turning onto the road that leads away from him. But for the first time in my life, a whiny voice inside is wailing, It’s not fair!

  But when has life been fair? I’d better build up my armor again, if I hope to have the strength to leave.

  When the truck bumps into the yard, movement flashes in the headlights. “Shut it down!”

  “What?”

  I reach over, turn off the key. “Turn off the lights!”

  “Nevada, it’s—”

  “Shhhhh. Get the shotgun.” I reach up, flip the switch on the overhead light, so it won’t come on when I open the door, crack it as quietly as I can, and slip into the inky blackness, glad I wore a black T-shirt.

  The safety light illuminates the sheep’s pen, and they’re shifting around in there, bleating a warning. I jog around the house and lean against it, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness, trying to hear over my panting and the drumming of the pulse in my ears.

  “Nevada.” Joseph steps up beside me and lays his hand on my shoulder.

  “Shhhh.” I jerk away, straining every sense I have.

  Joseph’s arm snakes around my chest, holding me back.

  A shape materializes out of the shadows, white splashes…God, it’s huge.

  “Fishing Eagle.” The sound comes from high—above my head, high.

  Joseph turns on the flashlight, aiming it at the ground. “Hok’ee.”

  A tall black-and-white horse steps into the light, ridden by a dark-skinned man about Joseph’s age.

  Joseph steps forward to touch the horse’s neck. “Everything okay?”

  “All is quiet, shik’is.”

  I’m so busy trying to stiffen my wobbling knees and not pee myself, it takes a few seconds to sink in. I turn to Joseph. “What is going on?”

  “Hok’ee is a friend. Asdzáá’s father, as a matter of fact. You know her from the Wings. She’s the one—”

  “I know who she is. Why is he here?” Though I already know. Joseph’s gone all Superman on me, just like I thought he would. My guts slick with ice at the thought of him anywhere near the line of fire. His friends, too.

  The guy eyes me. “I didn’t sign up for this part. I’ll be on the perimeter. Later, dude.” He turns the horse’s head and trots away.

  “He’s just keeping an eye on the place, that’s all.”

  Joseph tries to take my hand, and I rip it away. “Did I ask for your help?”

  “We are not arguing about this.”

  “You’re right. We’re done.” I turn and walk toward the trailer.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” He follows. “Nevada, I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d be like this.”

  “So you diss me by going behind my back. Yeah, that works. If you don’t know me better than that by now, we never had anything to begin with.”

  “When are you going to learn?” He stands, shaking his head.

  I whirl and plant a fist on my hip. “Tell me, wise one, what do I have to learn?”

  “I’m not leaving you. You don’t have to do everything alone. When you let people in, you have to let them in all the way. People who care about you—people who would love you if you give them a chance—they want to help.”

  “Well. They. Can’t.” I practically spit the words in his face.

  “Hey.” His hand clamps on my forearm. “Your temper tantrum doesn’t scare me. A drug lord with a gun to your head. That scares me. Listen. I have a plan. I was going to wait to tell you, but…We’ll pack up tonight and move to the rez.”

  My head is shaking before he finishes talking. “Oh no.” Bring danger
to all his people? That’s the only thing I can think of that would be worse.

  “No, you don’t understand. We look out for our own. Strangers couldn’t just come on our land and—”

  “This is not your problem, dude.” I want to hurt him. Make him turn away from me before it’s too late. I can handle my pain. I can’t handle seeing his.

  “How can you say that after the past few days? You think this has just been some kind of hookup? Because it isn’t. Not for me. Not by a long shot. I thought you understood that.”

  God, I screwed this up so bad. Any way I turn, he’s going to get hurt. I never meant for this…I never meant for any of it. My throat goes tight and watery, and I try to pull away, but his hand is like a vise.

  “This is my fault. I thought my actions were as good as words. Let me be plain, so you understand. I’ve wasted time, being all tangled up in my own head. I’m not wasting any more. I want you, Nevada Sweet. Not just your body. I want your mind. Your spirit. You heal parts of me that I’d hidden away. I want—”

  “I can’t.” I say it to him, but also to squash the butterflies careering around my chest like happy little drunks. “Let me be clear. You’re only temporary. Sorry, but that’s the way it is.”

  Surprise loosens his grip, and I pull my arm away. “I told you, I don’t like people touching me.” I stomp for the trailer, glad that he doesn’t follow. I want to look back, but I can’t handle what I’d see. That I’ve destroyed him.

  I close the door and look out the curtained window. My vision is all wavy, and I can’t see his face for the shadows, but he’s just standing where I left him. Then he turns and, head down, walks to the house.

  * * *

  Ma,

  I’ve never told you I was sorry, and I guess it’s time I did. People would say that I was a kid; that it wasn’t my job to save you. But they weren’t there. I’d been taking care of you since I was…hell, I don’t even remember when I realized that someone needed to, and I was the only one around who cared.

  Seems like all I ever do is run. I’m going to run again, but this time, it isn’t so much to save me, as other people. Friends. A…love. See, I found there’s worse things than dying—being responsible for people you care about being hurt—that’s worse.