Sweetheart Braves

by Pamela Sanderson

  He'd be back to it: work, sleep, and staying sober. Would he wake up in ten or twenty years and realize that nothing had changed? Would this be the moment he returned to, his best chance to move things to a different course but he let it go?

  "Do you want to run away?" he asked.

  "If I thought it would work, I would insist," she said. "Stop stalling and take off your pants."

  She tip-toed to the edge of the water and took three graceful strides before diving under. Her head burst back out of the water. "Strip for me, baby," she yelled.

  Tommy took another quick look around. The boats were in the distance. He stripped his pants off and made his way to the water's edge and froze when he was ankle deep. He'd been in cold water before, but this was frigid.

  "Someone looks cold," Elizabeth said.

  "This was your idea," he reminded her. He stumbled into the water, lost his footing and splashed under, the cold water shocking the words out of him. He surfaced and kicked toward her with heavy limbs.

  Elizabeth swam over, wrapped her legs around his waist, threw her arms around his neck, and stuck her tongue in his mouth. She stopped long enough to ask, "You want to try to do it like this?"

  "I don't think that's possible," he said.

  She giggled in his ear. "You're swimming in the wild. It's not so terrible, is it?"

  "I'm too cold to be properly frightened," Tommy said.

  "Granny would be proud. 'Cold water makes good for your healthy' she would say."

  "Worked for her," he said through chattering teeth.

  "You getting used to it?"

  "Not even close."

  Elizabeth kissed him again and then turned his head to face the sunset, a hint of orange above the dark line of the horizon. "Drink in this beauty for thirty seconds, and we'll get out."

  His eyes remained on her, her wet lashes stuck together, her hair slicked back. She hung on to him, moving with the rise and fall of the water.

  "Would you come back with me?"

  "You are the only one who has ever made me think about it," she said, "but I can't. Come on, I'll warm you up."

  Elizabeth dried herself off with a towel and then turned her attention to Tommy, rubbing him down until she got the response she wanted.

  "Are we ever going to do it in a bed?" Tommy asked, sweeping the towel around them, their cold, bare skin pressed together. She kissed along the crease in his neck, warming that spot with her lips.

  "Stay tonight."

  The sky had faded to purple, the night perfect for a bonfire if they planned to stay out and watch the stars. She rubbed against him, the friction helping to heat them up.

  Tommy's voice was hoarse. "Come up for a visit."

  His hands kept the towel secure, so hers were free to wander. She kept them moving, stroking his back, squeezing his butt, and skimming over his belly. "Take me for a quick drive in Leo's truck when get back to Granny's. After you go, I'll practice getting used to it." She bit his earlobe and smiled when he shuddered.

  He let go long enough for them to spread out the blankets and bundle into them.

  She stretched out on her side, and he swiftly circled his arm around her waist and closed the space between them.

  "The best part about doing it outside is letting everything flap about in the open air," she said.

  "The best part of doing it outside is that I'm with you," he said, his breath warm and delicious against her mouth. "I'm not worried about flapping. I'm worried about wind chill."

  He clamped his mouth over hers and kissed her frantically, first on the lips, teasing her tongue, and then to a sensitive spot under her ear, pausing to whisper her name. One of his hands slid down her thigh to tickle the inside of her leg.

  She tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his face up, his eyes ablaze with lust and raw adoration. No one had ever looked at her like that.

  Tommy rolled onto his back. "You get on top. I don't want my woman getting sand ground into her ass."

  She would have hated the sound of 'my woman' from anyone else, but she loved hearing him claim her. As they reconfigured, the blanket fell open, and the chilly air washed over them again.

  "Wind chill," she muttered.

  Tommy arranged the blanket over her again, then his hands moved to her breasts, rolling the hard nipples between his fingers.

  She gasped and momentarily lost track of what she was doing, her body melting into his. He rocked his pelvis to bring her back. After a brief search, she found a condom and slid onto him.

  From the back of his throat came a quiet, happy sound. He pulled her to him, kissing her deeply, his hands moving possessively, skimming down her back and tracing up her thighs before resting on the curves of her ass. She took the lead with a slow, steady rhythm, the chill forgotten as heat spread through her.

  He kept his eyes open, never leaving hers, between kisses whispering, "I love your eyes, I love your mouth, I love your hair."

  Night had fallen. They were a single spark in the darkness, nothing but the two of them and the sound of the water lapping along the river bar.

  She moved more quickly, and his hips shifted in response. Their bodies fit together, comfortable and exactly right. His fingers dug into the curve of her hips, pulling her closer, and she let a high-pitched moan escape. He didn't try to quiet her this time. The tremor inside her grew, heat and bright light rising together in wave after dizzying wave until she collapsed onto him, flushed and trembling, their breath ragged in her ear. His thighs shook underneath her, and he gasped several times.

  She stayed on him a few moments longer, heavy and sated, happy to hear his heaving breath and feel his heartbeat under her. She slid off, and they wrapped themselves around each other, facing the same questions they'd been dodging for the past few days.

  "Would you move?" she asked.

  He stroked her back. The desire to hear him say yes made her ache.

  "Is that hypothetical or an invitation?"

  "Invitation. I'm asking you right now," she said, her head filled with ideas. "I have a friend you could stay with until you get settled. Maybe you could work at the school or whatever you do for Linda. She could do a recommendation."

  He brushed his lips over hers, slow and lazy like they had more time than they did. "I'm not sure anyone would give me a job."

  "Linda did."

  "Linda is doing a public service," he said.

  "You're not that bad."

  He said, "I would move for you. You're the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me. But I can't do it now, and I can't ask you to wait."

  "Waiting would be my choice," she said.

  "I have sand in uncomfortable places," Tommy said, trying not to hurry back to Granny's. He still had a long drive ahead of him. Elizabeth rested her hand on his thigh.

  She squeezed. "The drawback of beach noodling."

  "Not complaining," he said. "We still have time for a quick lap in Leo's truck?"

  "Yes. I want to drive around once while you're here, so I can imagine your confidence every time I do it myself." A waver crept into her voice. He dropped his hand to hers and wove his fingers into hers.

  She showed him where to turn into Granny's and he pulled up next to a bright red truck. Elizabeth made an unhappy sound at the back of her throat.

  "Someone you were expecting?" he asked.

  "I should have," she muttered.

  Before he killed the engine, the front door opened and a big native guy with a not-especially-friendly face came out.

  "George, what are you doing here?" she said, her voice flat.

  "Checking in on you two. I wasn't sure what to think when you didn't go to work." The guy wrapped her into a big hug, twirling her around before setting her down. "You must be Tommy. I'm George." There was no mistaking the territorial claim in his voice.

  "Nice to meet you," Tommy said out of habit. There was nothing nice about it.

  "How did you find out we're home?" Elizabeth asked.

&
nbsp; "Small town. Granny said you had a big adventure. I can't wait to hear about it." He remained at Elizabeth's side, more than just old-friend familiar. Tommy couldn't read Elizabeth. She was half-annoyed, half-uncertain, like there was something she needed to say but didn't want to do it.

  George said, "I hear you work with Linda?" What he meant was, You'll be moving on soon.

  "Yeah," Tommy said, feeling strangely inadequate.

  Elizabeth said, "He helped us a lot."

  "Oh, really?" George said, pretending to be conversational but there was hostility in it.

  "Drove us around. He's the one who got the museum to show Granny her dance dress," Elizabeth said.

  Even out under the open sky, the world felt too small. He was trapped between the car and George, with Granny's funny house looming over them.

  "Next time I can drive you," George said.

  Elizabeth appeared to be trying to convey a series of complex emotions via her eyes. Whatever was going on here, she wasn't able to explain it, or she didn't want to.

  He could save her the trouble.

  When they were talking about the future and it was the two them, a future where they ended up together was possible, but now he had an equally complex series of thoughts of his own.

  The distance was something they couldn't avoid right now. And seeing her here, where she belonged, where she wanted to be, he could feel the distance growing.

  It would feel like hell now, but they would get over it. If they ended it right, it would be a fond memory of something that could have been, not something that they could never get right after it should have been over.

  George either knew too much or too little, but he was more than happy to hurry Tommy's exit along. "Thanks for watching out for them," he said. "I guess you're headed back." It was a statement, not a question.

  Tommy glanced down the driveway that would take him away from her, all the problems waiting for him at home looming back into view.

  "Yeah," he said, the word sticking at the back of his throat. He swallowed and tried again. "I need to get the car back. If I leave now, I'll be home by morning."

  Elizabeth's face was stricken, her eyes shiny, her mouth open in a distressed no as she shook her head.

  George came forward to shake his hand. "Thanks again. Great to meet you."

  "Don't rush him off. He has to say goodbye to Granny," Elizabeth said.

  As if on cue, Granny appeared at the door. "Get in here, you," she said to no one in particular.

  Tommy waved at her. Now that he knew he was leaving, he couldn't get out of there fast enough. "Thanks, Auntie." He opened the car door. "Thanks for everything," he said, not sure what he meant.

  Elizabeth came around and hissed quietly, "He's just a friend. Don't go." The look in her eyes was terrible—grief, a hint of tears.

  He took a moment to collect his thoughts. "I'm not any good at this kind of thing."

  "Which kind of thing?" Elizabeth said.

  He flicked a wrist at her and then himself. "Knowing what to say." He could feel Granny and George's eyes on them.

  Elizabeth insisted, "I have plenty to say if you wait a minute. Please, we—"

  Tommy grabbed her hands in his. "Listen. You...this weekend is the best thing that's happened to me in my whole life. My life is a mess, and you have everything here."

  "You said you'd drive with me in Leo's truck."

  "I can drive with you, Lizzie," George said.

  Her head whipped around. Through clenched teeth, she said, "Let me talk to him." She pulled Tommy away from them.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Granny tried to urge George inside, but he ignored her.

  Elizabeth said, "Don't rush off. Not goodbye like this."

  His heart was breaking in a way he couldn't have imagined before this moment. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her like she was that last thing keeping him tied to the earth. She slowly hugged him back, hiccupping quietly in his ear.

  "We're not going to talk to each other anymore?" she said.

  "I'll call you when I get home," he said.

  He could feel the sob she was holding back.

  "Bye, Elizabeth," Tommy said before he got in the car and drove away.

  27

  Tommy sat at what Ester jokingly referred to as the quiet bar at Frenzy's. The dance club had a massive bar in the front room and this smaller one tucked in the back. When the club's sound system was at full power, the back bar was only marginally quieter than anywhere else in the place.

  In the early hour, the club was almost dead, although a few folks seeking to skip the cover had arrived. The music pounded from the speakers while flashing colored lights weaved back and forth over the almost empty dance floor. A man dressed in a sharp black suit with a red rose pinned to the jacket spun back and forth alone, his steps quick and light and from another era. The salt-and-pepper hair suggested he was old enough to be a grandfather.

  "That's Hector, isn't he adorable?" Ester said from the seat next to him. "He comes in at opening and drinks one martini, then dances for about a half hour. Then he leaves. I danced with him once, and he made me look like I was wearing clown shoes."

  Tommy figured there was a sad story behind Mr. Dance Alone.

  Ester's boyfriend, Theo, came over to the bar and took the coffee the bartender, Fran, offered.

  "How's your bus?" he asked.

  "Body damage only," Tommy said, feeling like he was talking about something else. "Cody is helping me fix it. Well, he's fixing it. It will be filled with elders again in no time."

  Theo nodded. "Sucks, what happened, but lucky it wasn't worse." Again, Tommy felt like they were talking about something else. Theo gave Ester a quick squeeze and went to work the front door. If he was curious about Tommy's disappearance the previous weekend, he didn't mention it.

  Fran set identical tall frosty glasses in front of each of them.

  Tommy raised an eyebrow at her.

  "A little chemistry project," she said. "I like a challenge. Muddled mint and berries with ginger-ale—the fancy crafted kind that uses real ginger—and this blend of magical flavors I call fruit nectar, with a splash of club soda."

  "How can I refuse?" Tommy took a careful sip while Fran waited. He nodded and gave her a thumbs-up. Ester made a happy sound.

  Fran gave him a guarded look of pity before she smiled and retreated. He was tired of everyone's careful kindness.

  It felt like he'd been gone a lifetime while he’d been off with Granny and Elizabeth, but now he was back and nothing had changed. He'd swapped cars with Linda so that he drove the infamous Warm Springs green car, which didn't run any worse than any other vehicle he'd driven. Arnie said he could keep it as long as he wanted, which was simultaneously reassuring and demoralizing.

  "I'm surprised you came out tonight," Ester said.

  "Why? I love going out." Tommy offered a fake smile.

  "Are you going to dance with me later?" she asked.

  "You already know the answer to that," he said. "I'm going to be out of here in less than an hour."

  "You can always change your mind," she said.

  "I'll try to remember that," he said.

  "So," she said, "do you want to talk about anything?"

  "Like what?" After everything that happened that weekend, the punctuation mark that hit him in the gut every time he thought of it was George and how politely he’d made his disdain known. The guy was half a head taller and probably had sixty pounds on him, and the bearing of full-on Ind'n bad boy, like the guys at home who had picked on him when he lived on the rez.

  Elizabeth's response: "George, what are you doing here?"

  He replayed that over and over in his head, trying to read into the tone or gain something from the way the words dropped out. He couldn't be sure whether she was surprised, pleased, or maybe expected it and regretted not filling him in.

  Then George's response: "Checking in on you two." He had his place there, next to Granny and E
lizabeth, no question.

  He shouldn't have been surprised, but he’d let his heart open a crack and expectations followed. He zipped it all back in as best he could and took another sip of his drink.

  "Nothing interesting happened when you ran away?" Ester asked.

  "I didn't run away. I helped Linda's family. You come here every weekend?"

  Ester made an unhappy sound. "Kinda. I come here with Theo, and when they call, I deliver pasta dinners for that restaurant across the street."

  "You're driving?" He flashed on the image of Elizabeth, hands gripping the wheel. If George hung around, she would always have a ride.

  "I hate it but if Theo is working, I might as well, too. A little extra money to go toward paying down my loans."

  "And then what?"

  Ester played with her straw. "Not making any major decisions until I find out about my filmmaking workshop and we know what's going on with the center."

  The future of the center had been iffy for so long, he'd stopped worrying about it. If it fell apart, he would need a resume and interview skills and something to show for himself.

  "You think the center is finished?"

  Ester shrugged. "I think we need to keep our options open. Rayanne is lined up with her elder meal program. If the center falls apart, she would spin off on her own and, knowing her, figure out another way to serve urban Ind'ns."

  "I'll deal with it when I have to," Tommy said.

  Hector was still on the dance floor. A bachelorette party had come in and gathered around while he spun a woman in a little black dress and tiara with white flashing lights.

  Ester nudged his arm. "What happened?" She said it in the most tender, sisterly voice. She said it like a person who genuinely cared what happened to him. And there was a part of him that did want to talk, but when he tried to figure out where to start, he couldn't.

  He laughed the question off. "What didn't happen?"

  "I worry about you," she said.

  "I hear that a lot."

  "Are you still talking to her?"

  He’d told her he'd call, but then he didn't. He put it off and now it felt too late and he had no excuse to give. "Maybe you guys could set me up with a haircut," he said.