by Tracy Krauss
“What time does Whisper go to bed?” Rachel asked.
“On a Friday night? It depends how late she lasts. Usually somewhere through the second video.” There was a pause. “I’d say about an hour from now.”
Rachel smiled. He’d caught her meaning. “Good. I might just see you in an hour, then.”
“Um, Rachel?”
“Yes?” She held her breath.
“Youth group is often over by eleven.”
“No problem.” She hung up the phone and looked at her watch. That gave them about an hour alone. They were communicating quite well, indeed.
****
Con sat listening to Pastor Todd’s devotional, not really hearing one word. It had been one whole week since his campaign to forget about Rachel Bosworth had begun. And it wasn’t working. He excused himself with a silent nod toward Carol, and stepped into the adjacent hallway, away from the circle of attentive youth. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He’d felt it vibrate earlier, having shut off the sound so as not to disturb the devotional time. Rachel had called.
He felt his heart leap then sink almost simultaneously. He was still at war with himself over her. He felt like God had given him clear direction, not only through his own convictions, but through the advice of two other men of God—his brother Ivor and Pastor Todd. So why was he having such trouble accepting it?
He needed some time to sort this out once and for all. Bottom line, he was a Christian, she was not. Any other differences could be easily overcome, but not that one. Then why had God placed her so directly in his path? Why was he so attracted to her? To her face, her smile, her body… just the way she moved and the somewhat shy and uncertain mannerisms that he had already picked up on? The memory of their kisses still burned on his lips. Either she had been placed there by the devil to tempt him, or God had put her in his path for a reason.
No matter which, if the opportunity presented itself again, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to say no.
****
Rachel knocked softly on the door and waited for the telltale footsteps. What in the world was she doing here? Sneaking about under the cover of darkness and appearing on a man’s doorstep this late at night? Thomas would probably think she was desperate or loose or both. Maybe she was. She didn’t even know herself anymore. All she knew was she was sick of feeling lonely and Thomas was available.
“Come in,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as he swung the door wide. She saw him glance over her shoulder into the darkness before shutting the door behind her.
Rachel removed her jacket, tossing it onto a nearby bench before following Thomas into the house. It was fairly neat, though sparsely furnished. She supposed they hadn’t brought too many of their own things with them, seeing as the trailer was a furnished rental. “Is Whisper asleep?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
Thomas nodded. “She sleeps like a log, as a rule. Once she’s out there should be no worries.” Thomas gestured to the sofa, a somewhat lumpy affair, and Rachel sat. “Can I get you something?” he asked. “I don’t keep much alcohol, I’m afraid. I try to set a good example for my kids by not keeping it in the house, but there might be a few beers left over from the summer work crew in the back of the fridge. I have pop, though. Just name it.”
“Beer’s good,” Rachel said. “If you’re having one, that is.”
Thomas nodded and went to the refrigerator. He was back in a few minutes with two cans and two glasses. He set them on the coffee table then turned the stereo up one notch before sitting beside Rachel on the couch.
They sipped their beer for a few minutes, the tension building between them in measurable increments.
“So. Things going well with the cultural center?” she asked.
“Generally, yes,” Thomas responded. “Kids doing all right at school?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She nodded, and took another sip of beer. Small talk was a necessary politeness, she knew. If only they could skip it altogether, and get to the real reason she was here.
The conversation continued on in this vein. Snippets of information shared but not really ingested. Rachel felt the telltale signs of arousal building. Was it just her or did he want her just as badly? She’d purposely worn the sexiest top she could find that wasn’t an evening dress. She didn’t own a lot of provocative clothes, if the truth be told, but it was the best she could do. She giggled.
“What’s so funny?” Thomas asked, raising his eyebrows while returning her smile.
She leaned forward and set her empty glass down on the coffee table before turning back to him. “You’ve got some foam right here on your upper lip,” she said with a grin. She gently touched his lips with her index finger then leaned toward him to lick the spot with her tongue.
Thomas Lone Wolf didn’t need a second invitation. He was the first to break away, however. “Whoa,” he whispered, he voice hoarse with passion.
“What’s wrong?” Rachel breathed, her chest heaving. She reached for him again and he rolled away, standing.
“Not like this,” he said. “Not with Whisper in the next room.”
Rachel blinked. Of course he was right. The last thing she wanted was for one of her students to find her frolicking on the couch with a parent. “Your bedroom, then?” she suggested.
“It’s right next door. She might hear us and wake up.”
“I thought you said she was a heavy sleeper.”
“She is, but still…” he trailed off.
“But what?” Rachel asked. The heat was beginning to dissipate. She stood up, straightening her top and brushing down her jeans before glancing at him again. He looked sad.
“It’s too soon,” Thomas said, letting a huge puff of air escape his lungs. “And Ryder might get home early. You just never know.”
His excuses were reasonable, but they hurt nonetheless. She’d just been rejected. Again. A small self-depreciating laugh escaped her lips. “Too soon,” she repeated. “I thought that was the woman’s line.”
“It’s not that I’m not interested, it’s just—”
“Save it,” she cut him off. “I’ll let myself out.”
She didn’t look back and he didn’t follow. Tears had begun to well up, replacing her brief show of bravado. She dashed them away and slammed her small vehicle into reverse, veering wildly out of Thomas’s drive.
One block away she met a familiar vehicle as it turned onto Thomas’s street. Con’s truck with two male passengers in the front seat. Her headlights illuminated the cab for a millisecond and she recognized Con’s nephew and Ryder Lone Wolf. Con was undoubtedly giving Ryder a lift home before heading back to the farm himself. The realization that he could have seen her car parked in Thomas’s driveway—even come inside to investigate—sent a fresh wave of self-deprecation coursing through her veins. What had she become? Some kind of desperate nymphomaniac?
She should be thankful that Thomas had stopped when he did. It meant he respected her enough to think about her reputation. And he had prevented a very unpleasant encounter with Con. She was a mess, plain and simple, and there didn’t seem to be any relief in sight.
Chapter Nineteen
Thomas drummed his fingers on the steering wheel then leaned on the horn. He didn’t care if Mirna Hyde was still sleeping. Ryder exploded through the porch door and held it aloft as Whisper stumbled through into the outside world. She only had one sleeve pulled on and her jacket was dragging on the ground. She was lugging her backpack in her other hand, and Ryder scooped it from her as he gave her a push toward the waiting SUV.
“I told you kids I needed you to hurry up,” Thomas scolded, his voice tight with suppressed frustration. “Next time I’m leaving without you and you can walk to school.”
“It’s too late to walk and get there on time,” Ryder mumbled.
“Then start getting your behinds out of bed a little earlier,” Thomas barked.
There was an unhealthy silence in the vehicle for a few minutes as they traveled
. Thomas jerked to a halt at the first stop sign.
“I’m sorry for making you mad, Daddy,” Whisper ventured from the back seat. “I’ll try not to lose my pencil case next time.”
Thomas released a sigh. He knew he’d been too harsh with the kids lately. “It’s not you, sweetie. Things are just a little tense at work, that’s all.”
“What’s wrong, Dad?” Ryder asked.
“Some son of a—someone vetoed the cultural centre at the last town council meeting. Imagine holding a secret ballot, for crying out loud,” Thomas fumed. “Now I have to redo the entire proposal, taking into account their recommendations for change. It means another trip to Regina and who knows how many hours of work wasted. All for some white son of a—for some stupid person’s concerns.”
“Daddy,” Whisper scolded. “You sweared.”
“No I didn’t.”
“Almost.”
“Sorry, baby. Daddy is just really, really angry right now. I’m tired of being pushed around by a bunch of colonials who have no respect for our culture or the history of this area.”
Ryder cleared his throat and gestured with his head toward the back seat. “Maybe we should talk about it later.”
“I know,” Thomas huffed. “I’ve taught you kids to hate racial slurs and take a stand against prejudice of any kind. But sometimes you just have to stand up for what’s yours. There comes a time when being a doormat gets pretty tiresome. One day you’ll see that.”
They rode the rest of the way in silence and Thomas pulled up in front of the school with a jerk. “You two go straight home after school. I might be late, so make sure you get Whisper to bed at a decent time, okay?”
Ryder nodded as he helped his little sister from the vehicle. Thomas just caught her “I love you, Daddy,” as he sped away and he looked in his rearview mirror to see her waving. A sudden twinge of guilt overtook him. If he hadn’t been in such a hurry to get to the city, he’d turn around and say good-bye properly.
It seemed like nothing was going right these days. What had looked so promising just months ago now seemed to be hitting a roadblock at every turn. There was opposition from all sides. Even Indian and Northern Affairs were beginning to question the validity of a center in such a small community. Somehow this vision must not die! It was his mission—his great-grandfather’s mission—and he must not let him down.
As skeptical as he had been at first, much of what Mirna Hyde had said now made sense. The dreams had stopped, which could only mean that his great-grandfather had told him everything he needed to know. Now it was up to him to make sure that his people—including his ancestors—had a voice in this community. It was rightfully theirs to begin with and no white bureaucrats were going to snatch it away. He felt growing empowerment within and knew that he was finally on the right path. His destiny.
On the down side, he hadn’t prayed much lately. It just seemed that each day was so full that when he had the chance he either fell asleep or his mind wandered to other more pressing matters. He knew he needed to guard against bitterness. It was just waiting at the door, ready, willing, and able to take over if he let it. This morning’s subtle reminder from his teenage son was enough to make him want to watch out for it, if not squelch it altogether. A small dose of bitterness might just serve him in the short term. Spur him on to action until he got the job done. After that, they could retreat to the safety of their faith.
He also knew that some of his current angst stemmed from sexual frustration. That part of his life had lain dormant for too long. In fact, he’d never really considered before what he should do about it, or if he even should do anything about it. He had been content with his memories of Rhea, his libido still cocooned within the agony of mourning. But now things were different. His desires had emerged from the chrysalis, but had nowhere to alight.
When Rachel Bosworth had come onto him that night at his own home, well, he’d almost gone for it on the spot. Fortunately, his brain had kicked in before it was too late and they had avoided a very embarrassing situation. Not only could Whisper have awakened and found them, but Ryder arrived home from youth group much earlier than expected. He knew Rachel was hurt by what she interpreted as rejection, but when he’d told her it was too soon, he’d meant it. He still felt a twinge of guilt on behalf of Rhea. That and the fact that he was a Christian and Christian people weren’t supposed to have casual sex outside of marriage, were enough to make him apply the brakes.
He hadn’t called her since. He was still thinking about it and weighing his options. Despite the aforesaid reasons, he still hadn’t ruled it out entirely. If he did decide to have sex with her, he could always pray and ask for forgiveness later. Mirna Hyde had said he should take the woman, too. Just what did that witch know, anyway?
****
The days began to merge as Rachel’s life became a routine of school and home with very little reprieve. She wasn’t interested in Grace’s banter or Rhoda’s probing questions. Even the fact that Grace was now dating the eccentric science teacher, Carl Binder, wasn’t enough to spark her enthusiasm for life. Con McKinley hadn’t called—probably wasn’t going to call, and she certainly wasn’t going to throw herself at another man any time soon. The result had been far too humiliating and it was easier to retreat back into the safety and security of her work.
How long had it been now? One week? Maybe two? It didn’t matter. There was something about her that just couldn’t satisfy men, and she was finally coming to terms with it. A deficiency Ronald had called it, and if anyone should know it was him. She’d given herself fully to him, thinking it was love, and yet she hadn’t been able to satisfy him. It might have been nice to have another chance, but then again it was probably for the best. No use setting herself up for even more humiliation.
Her cell phone rang and she picked up, expecting it to be Grace or Sherri. She’d decided she would no longer check to see if it was Con. That was silly and just setting herself up for disappointment. “Hello?”
“Rachel? It’s Thomas.” Rachel’s stomach did a flip-flop. “I was wondering if I could come over.”
“Now?” she squeaked. She cleared her throat. “Now?” she repeated, trying to sound less like a mouse.
He laughed. The sound was deep and full and sent chills through her body. Oh what a spineless creature she was! “Yeah. I’m actually parked just down the street by the lodge. I didn’t want your landlady to see my vehicle and I didn’t want to knock just in case she heard something. I’ve heard she can be quite the busybody.”
“What… what about the kids?”
“I had a meeting in Regina today. They aren’t expecting me until late.”
Her body was on fire now. “Sure, I guess… as long as you’re quiet. I’ll meet you at the door.”
She hung up and hesitated for only a second before bolting for the bathroom. She quickly brushed her teeth and ran a comb through her hair. She was already dressed in her pajamas but there was no time to change now. It would have to do. With a racing heart she tiptoed up the stairs and opened the outside door a crack, peeking out. Thomas was on the street right in front of the house. She stepped out onto the landing and waved for him to hurry.
She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. With mouths clamped shut, barely containing their laughter, they tiptoed back down into the basement apartment, then giggled like adolescents when she shut the door behind them.
“Shh!” Rachel warned, leaning against the door. “Mrs. Beatry has a strict no visitors of the opposite sex rule.”
“Gotcha,” Thomas whispered and winked. “I didn’t come here to talk anyway.”
Rachel sobered almost instantly. The butterflies in her stomach had taken to dancing again. “Um, about the other night. I’m sorry if I came on too strong. I’m not usually that forward.”
“It’s okay. I’m over it.”
They had moved into the one main room and Rachel had a sudden urge to keep her distance. When she was in his home, initiating things
, she had felt powerful, sexy, in control. Here she felt trapped. Like he had invaded her private space and she wasn’t sure she liked it.
“Can I get you something? Maybe a soda?”
“I think you’ll do,” he smiled, stepping into her bubble and placing his hands on her shoulders. He bent in for a kiss and she let him, her back stiffening. This was what she’d wanted, right? To prove that she wasn’t the ice queen that Ronald had said she was. Willing herself to relax, she slumped into his arms and started kissing him back, letting her arms find their way around his neck as her hands grasped the length of his ponytail.
The kiss deepened and his hands began roaming, the loose fitting pajamas providing very little resistance. She let out a little cry and tried to pull back but he wouldn’t let her go. He was maneuvering her toward the couch and suddenly she didn’t want to have sex with this man anymore. She needed for him to stop—now!
“Stop,” she managed to hiss between kisses. She struggled and finally turned her head away completely, leaving her neck exposed for more, but at least freeing her voice to protest. “I said stop!” she repeated more forcefully.
He seemed to hear this time and he did stop. She pushed him away with as much force as she could muster and jumped a few feet away from him, trembling.
“What?” Thomas asked, seeming genuinely bewildered. “I thought—”
“I changed my mind,” Rachel said, her voice sounding small and frightened.
“But—”
“I’d like you to leave now,” she stated, crossing her arms over her chest. She could still feel the way he’d touched her and she thought she might be sick. Maybe Ronald was right after all. She could never respond properly to a man.
“Is it because I’m an Indian?” he asked. Anger flashed in his dark eyes and he made no attempt to keep his voice low.