by Jade Carr
"Colts."
She nodded as if the single word explained a great deal, which it hadn't. "What about the identical markings on your chests?"
"We don't know what they represent."
Just like that, she had to fight the urge to wrap her arms around them and reassure them, but from what? She knew everything she cared to know about her background. Her upbringing contributed greatly to the woman she was now, but it was possible they didn't have that base. If that was so, did they have any underpinnings? Not that she felt free to ask.
"Can you change back whenever you want to?"
"Sometimes are easier than others."
"What about now?"
"Is that what you want? For us to become men?"
"Maybe. I don't always know which of you I'm talking to."
"It doesn't matter."
Having her hands in her pockets increased her awareness of her breasts. Those human eyes in animal bodies continued to study her, making her even more aware of herself as a woman. If she dared give in to this crazy impulse, she'd unbutton her blouse and execute a slow striptease. She'd take a long time removing her bra, touching herself here and there as she did. Maybe she'd leave her bra in place while she dispensed with her jeans.
Ah, yes, that was what she wanted to do, mess with their minds same as they were doing to hers. Of course, that would leave her hot and bothered, but it would be worth it.
Wouldn't it?
His head low and extended toward her, the Nokoni horse approached. She fought the impulse to back away. Much as she needed to know why he was doing this, she didn't say anything. When he was so close his heat bled over her, he placed his head against her chest and pressed so she nearly lost her balance.
"What's this about?"
"Testing you."
Her suspicion that she knew what he was talking about was reinforced when he lowered his head until his nostrils were near her crotch. He inhaled. She shivered as his exhaled breath dampened her crotch. Something let down inside of her to moisten her channel. Ready, she admitted. Just like that, she was ready for sex. He inhaled again, nickering as he did. Hah-Tee did the same.
"Is that the kind of testing you're talking about?" she demanded. Her pussy pulsed.
"Not all."
"What else?"
"We can't say—yet."
"Fine. Whatever. I can't stay here." She wasn't sure whether she was talking to them or herself. "My aunt's expecting me."
"Forget her."
Knowing Hah-Tee was speaking helped her separate the two in her mind—that and having Nokoni so close he could easily knock her off her feet—or push her to the edge of a climax. "I can't. I won't." She had no intention of explaining why her aunt was so important to her. After all, what did creatures raised in the wild by four-legged dams know about love?
Nokoni backed up, taking his damp, warm, life-giving breath with him. A strong breeze attacked her pussy. Beyond caring who might see, she slid her hand between her legs and stroked herself.
Nokoni continued his retreat until he'd joined Hah-Tee. She watched for a return of yesterday's hostility, but they seemed oblivious to each other. Instead, their attention remained fixed on her.
"What?" she demanded as her fingers continued to soothe and stimulate. "Damn it, this silent treatment is driving me crazy. All right, wet heat and a couple of studs are making me crazy. Either you tell me what you being here is about, or I'll—"
"What will you do, Terena?"
Hearing a masculine voice instead of sensing the words like before unnerved her. By the time she'd calmed down enough to give the stallions her full attention, they'd begun to become men again. The process seemed to take less time than the shifting-into-horse thing had, but she might be wrong. Finally their contours settled into two-legged naked forms, all signs of the horses gone.
"Amazing," she said. "You do that so gracefully."
"What brought you here?" Nokoni asked. He seemed oblivious to his nudity. She wasn't about to pick up their clothes and hand them to them.
After forcing her hands off herself, she explained that she'd come to the motel because that was where her aunt was. Listening to herself, she wondered if she'd ever tell them about her conversation with Quana. "I don't want you anywhere near her, understand?" Like she could make good on her threat. "She has enough to deal with without you—just leave her alone."
Looking confused, Nokoni frowned. "What does she have to deal with, Terena?"
Nokoni had to stop using that sensual tone around her. Otherwise, she might fall apart. She could try to deflect his question or—"She's Ahote's mother." She threw out the explanation before she could change her mind. "She needed to know what her son has been up to."
"What did you tell her?" Hah-Tee asked.
Trying to concentrate on the two unclothed men at the same time was nearly more than she could handle. Even resolutely keeping her attention on their faces didn't help. "That I saw him race."
"What else?"
"What—oh, you want to know if I told her about you two. For the record, I didn't."
Hah-Tee tipped his head to the side. "Will you?"
"I don't know. I did tell her about what happened to Red. My aunt and I came to the same conclusion, that Ahote owed the men money, and it probably had something to do with drugs. I—maybe you don't care, but I tried to downplay my cousin's reaction to losing Red, because I didn't want to make things any rougher for my aunt."
Hah-Tee frowned. In contrast, Nokoni nodded, making her wonder if he understood how much she loved the older woman. She hoped so.
"Are you saying she isn't strong enough for the truth?" Hah-Tee asked.
"She is, but if I can protect her, I will, because she's done so much for me." She glanced at Nokoni, then decided to take the plunge. "Did Nokoni tell you that he and I talked about—"
"That wasn't all you did."
Realizing Hah-Tee had seen her and Nokoni having sex made her cheeks flame. Then she reminded herself that as stallions they undoubtedly saw intercourse as a simple act, certainly nothing that should be carried out in private. "That isn't the point." She couldn't deal with the complexity of their lives.
"Then she doesn't know Ahote stole Red from us."
"You're saying—"
"You know what we're saying."
Unfortunately, she did. "I brought up the possibility of mustangs running wild on the res. She said a herd has been here for a few years, a migration from Nevada."
"That's what people believe?"
"What other explanation is there?" Saying that made her frown. "There's a disagreement between the Hopi Council and the BLM over whose responsibility they are."
Determination burned in Nokoni's dark eyes. "They're mine."
"I'm not going to argue with you, because I don't know what's going on. People believe the horses simply wandered here, but was it a deliberate migration? You made a conscious decision to bring them to this land?" She could barely believe she'd asked the question, but she had to. "Why? You aren't Hopi when you're in human form."
Hah-Tee's nostrils flared. "Are you sure?"
"I'm Hopi. I should know."
"Are you?" Nokoni asked.
Her heart constricted, all but killing her awareness of the two sexy male bodies. "What are you saying?"
"I saw you naked. Yes, Hopi blood runs through you, but there's more to you than that."
"My father is white, all right? There's nothing I can do about it." She pressed a hand to her forehead. She accepted being what some people called a half-breed, so why was she upset now?
His eyes filled with compassion, Nokoni held out his hand. Much as she wanted to accept his offering, and she did, she was too raw. He and Hah-Tee had her off balance and sexually charged when she needed to be level-headed and—and what?
"I don't appreciate you following me. Whatever it is you're up to—whatever you are—leave me out of it."
"You don't mean that."
"Yes I do." I
think. "Go be stallions again, or remain men. Your agenda has nothing to do with me. If you have a bone to pick with my cousin, I'm not going to get in the middle of it."
"We live on land your heart claims," Nokoni said softly. "Our bodies speak the same language."
He'd handed her two truths when she couldn't deal with either. As for whether her turmoil was a result of their bringing up her heritage or having them so close… "Go find another woman to mess with." She ground out the words. "I'm done. I don't care why or how you got here or what you intend to do next. It has nothing to do with me."
The way he stared at her, she half believed he could see into her heart.
"You're wrong."
Chapter 12
Instead of going directly to her aunt and uncle's place at Moenkopi, after breakfast with her distracted aunt, Terena kissed her good-by and headed southeast to the small, ancient village of Old Oraibi some thirty miles away. Fortunately, her aunt hadn't questioned her agenda, because if she had, Terena's answer wouldn't have satisfied her. Truth was, she wasn't sure why she wanted to go to what might be the oldest continuously occupied settlement in the United States. Maybe nostalgia.
Oraibi residents didn't encourage visitors, and photographs weren't allowed, but her aunt and uncle had often brought her here to visit friends, so she didn't feel like an outsider.
After parking her car at the outskirts, she started down one of the handful of packed-earth, unnamed streets. The houses' hand-fashioned stone walls listed, making her wonder how the modern windows in some of them had been installed. Wires from weathered telephone poles trailed to each house. In deference to the scant rainfall, the roofs were flat or nearly so. The majority of houses had been built with common walls, some directly behind others on low hills. Generations of footwear had worn down the steps that led to sagging wooden doors.
Judging by how her nerves were reacting, Terena had no doubt she was being watched. She hadn't been here for years, so maybe the residents wouldn't recognize her. Looking at her, would they see a Hopi or a white woman?
Why had Nokoni's comment about her mixed blood bothered her so much? Last night, she'd immediately become defensive, but after thinking about it during too many sleepless hours, she'd come up with the perfect rejoinder. Someone who split his time between being a stallion and a man had no business bringing up someone else's heritage.
Heritage.
Stopping, she again pondered where Nokoni and Hah-Tee come from. What forces had made them what they were? And how did they feel about the life they'd been thrust into? Were they the only ones of their kind, or were their offspring shifters?
Looking around again, she asked herself what the shifters would think of where she was. For all she knew, they'd seen Oraibi or some of the other villages. Imagining them standing beside her pulled her back to her surroundings. In contrast to the steeped-in-history housing, several vehicles were parked nearby. Some of them, mostly pickups, looked as if they'd been in the same spot for years. None were anything approaching new.
Did any of the unseen residents want more than the lives they were living? Beyond the reservation, the world moved at a tremendous speed, but here, tradition ruled. After reminding herself that no one here needed her philosophizing about the pros and cons of living where electricity and running water were considered recent improvements, she headed toward the edge of the village and the view she knew lay beyond.
Oraibi had been built on a bluff. Staring out at a world that hadn't changed in thousands of years, she wondered if any of the mustangs were around. There was precious little for them to eat, but then vegetation was hardly lush in Nevada, and they thrived there. Surely the herd leader would make sure they stayed near water. As she understood it, a senior mare assumed responsibility for sustenance, while the stallion was in charge of protection.
"Don't take safety for granted," she muttered.
Whether she spoke to Nokoni or Hah-Tee didn't matter because their lifestyle wasn't her concern. She'd had sex with Nokoni and had fantasized about what being with both of them might be like, but that was as far as it went. She'd come to Arizona for one thing—to get her head back on straight. Whatever trouble Ahote had gotten himself into was complicating things. The next time she saw him, he was going to get a piece of her mind.
Something her uncle had shown her when they'd been there before pushed through her muddled thoughts. Grateful for the distraction, she turned left and, watching every step, headed down a footpath flanked by rocks and weeds. Her destination was one of several kivas the Oraibi residents used for meditation, prayer, and ceremonial preparation. She had no intention of entering the sacred underground kiva. She simply wanted to see if she could find it. The Hopi maintained an elaborate and crowded ceremonial calendar, so it was possible a holy man would be around. If he was, she'd apologize and leave. If not, maybe she'd meditate here for a few minutes.
When she was growing up, her aunt and uncle had told her how the Spanish, Mexicans, and several Christian religions had tried to force their beliefs on the Hopi. Her respect for the natives who'd refused to turn their backs on their traditional ceremonies and spirit beings had grown. At first she'd seen kachinas as little more than colorful masked wooden dolls used during the various ceremonies. Now she understood their vital role in teaching respect and gratitude to children. She still had several kachinas but hadn't taken them out of their wrapping in years.
She spotted the nondescript square hole in the ground, and the reporter in her took note of her surroundings. If she decided to do so later, she could accurately describe Oraibi and the land around it so it would come to life even without pictures. Just the same, she couldn't see herself doing that. After all, what was sacred to the Hopi should continue to belong to them alone.
"I have a right to be here. I just want to make that clear." From what she could tell, no one was around. Just the same, it wouldn't hurt to clarify. She spoke a little louder than usual. "My mother is a member of the turtle clan, and I was raised by her sister. I respect my clan membership and would never do anything disrespectful around this kiva."
Silence answered her. Kneeling, she ran her fingers around the opening edge closest to her. Cool air from below slid over her hand. There was a ladder at the opposite side. "Is anyone down there?"
No one answered, but she repeated her question. She sat back on her heels and studied her surroundings. A few clumps of sage and some dry weeds served as proof that a few things could grow in the rocky ground. Hundreds of years ago, Oraibi residents had traveled more than thirty miles to the fertile Moenkopi Wash Canyon, so they could tend their mostly cotton fields. Strange how things she'd taken for granted as a child now filled her with awe and respect.
"Thank you, Maa'sau," she whispered to the land's guardian spirit. Her uncle had told her about it back when it had never occurred to her to question his, and therefore her, beliefs. "I haven't been the kind of earth steward I 'm sure you want me to be. Maybe that's why I came back, so I can truly learn."
Maybe that's why the shifters revealed themselves to me.
Shaken by the thought, Terena scrambled to her feet and backed away from the kiva. The hand she'd placed near the opening was still cool while the rest of her had become alive with the heat of discovery. All she knew was that when she'd reached a crossroad in her life a few weeks ago, she'd felt compelled to return to the land of her birth. Maa'sau's land.
A gust of wind blew up from the valley below. Grabbing hold of her hair, she retraced her steps until she was back on relatively level ground. Shielding her eyes, she again looked out at what she could see of the world. Once more she was struck by how unspoiled things were here. If she needed a safe place to live—
Was that what the mustangs had needed, and why they'd traveled so far?
Her temples pulsed. She pressed her hands to the sides of her head. She felt like yelling, "Eureka, I think I've got it!"
Oh my. She had to tell someone, but who? Her aunt and uncle had enough goin
g on in their lives right now, to say nothing about their concern for their son. Besides, she'd first have to fill them in on everything—almost everything—she'd learned about Nokoni and Hah-Tee. Calling Quana was a possibility, but first she'd have to think through how much she should share with him.
That left only two people—not that she could really call them humans.
All right, so the herd had come to the Hopi reservation because they'd felt threatened where they'd been. That left several questions unanswered, mainly what had caused them to flee, and why had they chosen this harsh land.
Did Nokoni and Hah-Tee know, and if so, would they share their knowledge with her? If they didn't know, could the three of them search for the answers together?
Another gust of wind flattened her blouse to her back and served as a reminder of the day's growing warmth. She could look for some shade, not that there was much, or return to her car, but neither of those options appealed, given her need to think things through more. Maybe if she revisited the kiva, it would all fall together.
"Terena?"
Looking in the direction the softly spoken word had come from, she spotted Hah-Tee. Her heart rate increased. In truth, she wasn't that surprised to see him. "What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Are you all right?"
Touched by his concern, she placed her hand over her heart. Before, she'd drawn comparisons between him and Nokoni, but now she saw him for who and what he was— a tall, imposing, rugged man with an angular face, football-player shoulders, and densely muscled arms. Sweat plastered his gray T-shirt to his chest while the breeze fought to lift his damp hair off his face and neck. The gray shirt, faded jeans, and dusty boots made him blend into his surroundings, but the sense of unity went deeper. She longed to photograph him in various settings and lightings so she could study him whenever she needed to.
"I think I'm all right," She answered as honestly as possible. "I seem to have a lot on my mind today. Where is Nokoni?"
"Where he belongs."
"With the herd?"
His barely discernible nod made her wish she understood more about their relationship. "Do you wish it was you instead?"