Elise smiled as she slowly scanned the broad expanse of his shoulders and muscled thighs. Blessed Spirit, he was gorgeous. She'd never seen a more handsome man with his short black hair and startling blue eyes. Not around here and never in her forest. She prayed every day to the sacred spirits to rescue her from the monotony that had become her life ever since she was barely a teen. Living in this unquestionably magnificent forest was a blessing and a curse. Perhaps, the Great Spirits answered her prayers.
She longed for a life outside of the borders of her close-knit, isolated village. She wanted to experience the world she saw on the pages of the magazines she secretly perused as a teenager when her parents went into Snoqualmie to purchase supplies. During those trips, she managed to buy a few magazines without her parents knowing. She tucked them under the mattress of her bed when they returned home and read them over and over until one night her father caught her thumbing through the pages of her latest acquisition. He seized her precious magazine and burned it, but not before chastising her for coveting a world that would never be hers. He said her duty to her family and tribe was to marry a young brave in their village and have babies.
“Daughter, if you young people do not stay and increase our numbers, our tribe will cease to exist and go the way of the mighty buffalo,” were the words her father used to say to her over and over. She hated hearing those words and secretly rebelled against them. She felt trapped in the small sheltered world she wanted no part of. It was her life, and she wanted to live it on her terms.
At her mother’s urging, when she turned eighteen, her father agreed to let her take over the responsibility of going into town and buying the supplies they needed. She was able to buy the highly prized magazines she loved so much without reprisal, but she no longer hid them in their house. She hid them in one of the empty bins in the storage shed in the backyard. It was where her mother kept their dried goods, oversized pots and pans, and extra cooking supplies. Her father never went in there. Her mother was aware she kept her magazines in there, and she never said a thing. She understood her only daughter needed her privacy and gave her the space she needed. She loved her mother all the more for it.
Every day, Elise retrieved her magazines from the storage shed and put them in her backpack and headed for her secret place in the forest. She’d read through them and started a scrapbook with pages she’d torn out to keep. She burned what was left of the old magazines in the fire pit in the backyard, and her father was none the wiser.
Elise’s parents loved her and wanted to protect her, and she loved them both dearly. But, she was unlike the other young women in her village who obeyed their parents’ wishes and accepted the lives they had chosen for them. She never could, and her father didn’t understand that. He accused her of being defiant, and it wasn’t true. She just wanted a different life.
Her father’s love was restrictive and overbearing where her mother was loving and easygoing. It made life problematic, and she hated pitting her mother against her father and tried to avoid it when she could. She wanted to be the dutiful daughter her father expected, but it was becoming increasingly difficult, especially when he was pushing for her to marry soon. That was the last thing she wanted.
Elise waded through the water with excitement and burgeoning desire she’d never experienced before. The arresting stranger saw her partial nudity, and she wondered if he liked what he'd seen. How she wished she could read his mind and hear his thoughts. Was he as attracted to her as she was to him? Was her attraction to him strictly because of his good looks or was it because he was a brief, exciting glimpse into the outside world? She wanted to spend every moment she could with this handsome stranger, and when their time together was over, she would have the precious memories of it to sustain her. But would it be enough? If she were lucky, she thought wistfully; maybe he'd return here someday. But what difference would it make? She would probably be married by then if her father had anything to do with it.
Chapter 2
Broderick heard her emerge from the water and the rustle of leaves as she padded quickly over to the tree to retrieve her towel and clothes. As the wind shifted slightly, the scent of lavender invaded his senses. It was her scent, effervescent and intoxicating as the rich, diverse layers of the immense forest. Her sweet fragrance spoke to the jaguar within him, and he nearly roared out loud with unsated desire. His pulse raced, and his jeans grew tighter. If he swelled much more, he'd lose circulation in both legs. He shifted uncomfortably and prayed she wouldn't see the large bulge he was sporting.
"You can turn around now," a soft voice said behind him.
Broderick turned and sucked in a breath. Elise’s scent had enveloped him, but her beauty mesmerized him. She was more beautiful close up if that was even possible. The red muslin peasant blouse hung off of one shoulder and clung to her breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her taut nipples strained against the material. He couldn't help but imagine sliding his tongue over them through the thin fabric until she moaned with pleasure. The faded blue jeans she wore had holes in the knees and molded to curvy hips and long slender legs. On her feet were red leather flip-flops with intricate black and white beading on the top. Pink coral adorned her toenails. Her long, mahogany hair was still damp and swept back from her face to spill down to her slender waist.
She flashed him a sultry smile, and it was nearly his undoing. She was not trying to be seductive. Her natural beauty and demeanor were shining like the first rays of sunshine on a cloudy day. She was a contradiction of pristine spring mornings and hot, lusty summer nights.
"What's your name?" he asked, his voice husky with need. If she never told him her name, he couldn't have cared less. All he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and kiss her luscious lips until they were both breathless. He wanted to feel every inch of her body against his. He wanted to...
"I'm Elise, Elise Munro." She held out her hand to him.
"Broderick Devereaux," he stammered like a schoolboy. He took her hand in his and nearly moaned as he tried to tamp down his arousal. Her hand was so soft and slender; his large hand dwarfed hers. He wanted to bring it to his lips - anything to get a taste of her.
Her emerald eyes watched him with unveiled curiosity. There was an awkward moment of silence between them as they continued to stare at one another. They were still holding hands, neither trying to let go. The sudden hoarse, screaming kee-eeeee-arr of a red-tailed hawk overhead broke the silence.
"Come," she said, as she slowly withdrew her hand from his. She picked up a brown leather backpack and slung it over one shoulder. "If you still want to talk.”
"I do." It was all he could manage, wishing he still had physical contact with her. He was so captivated by her, so fiercely aroused, he was afraid to say more and show her what a babbling idiot she was turning him into. It was so out of character for him. He was always so calm and collected, always in control - that is until he discovered this stunning beauty in the splash pool.
She pointed at the top of the ridge. "There is a beautiful place above the waterfall I like to go. It is my secret sanctuary. It is always lovely this time of year." She turned and frowned at him. "Can I trust you with my secret place?" she asked, staring at him expectantly.
Trust me with her secret place? He thought roguishly. He wasn’t so sure. But she wasn't talking about that secret place, was she? Her words are innocent. His thoughts were not. His mind was so far in the gutter; it would take days to dig himself out. You are in big trouble, Devereaux, he chided himself. How do you plan to walk away from her when the time came?
He placed his hand over his heart. “I will take the location of your secret place to my grave."
"Very well, I will make an exception in your case," she replied with amusement as she started walking again. "I can't have perfect strangers traipsing up here anytime they please. Besides, you don't look like a serial killer."
"Far from it, I assure you."
He followed behind as
she led him through ferns and a young growth of trees. A doe scampered across the dirt path in front of them followed by two spotted fawns. They stopped at a patch of knee-high grass and bent their head to feast on their bounty.
"What brings you to the area?" She asked as they continued walking.
"I needed some downtime."
"What type of work do you do?"
"I'm an Assistant District Attorney for King County."
Elise turned to look at him. "I guess you're not a serial killer after all. You're more like Perry Mason."
He smiled. "Not really. It sounds more glamorous than it is. It's long hours, frustrating days and sleepless nights. Justice is not always served no matter how hard one tries. I want to make a real difference, but at times it seems to be an uphill battle."
"My grandfather used to say the Great Moon Spirit guides the hand of the righteous man and gives him favor with the spirits. The evil man who strays from the path will never know peace."
Broderick frowned. "Sage words but it's hard for me to accept when even one criminal walks away scot-free."
She flashed him an impish smile. "You sound like you need my secret hideaway more than I do."
His eyes fixed on Elise, and he smiled. "Maybe I do." He was amazed at how easy she was to talk to. He had been stressed out for weeks and just a few minutes in her company soothed him. He found himself drawn to her in a way he had never been to another woman. What was wrong with him? He thought. He wasn't someone who made snap judgments about anyone or anything. He was cautious about his decisions and his feelings. All of that reasoning went out the window with her. Was she the mysterious force that drew him here?
"We're here," Elise stopped. "We have to climb over the rocks ahead. Please watch your step. The rocks are slippery this time of the morning."
Elise wasn't kidding about how beautiful this slice of paradise above the waterfalls truly was. The outcropping overlooking the right side of the falls was a combination of wild grass, colorful wildflowers, and smooth rock formations of quartz and granite. It was so secluded that no one could see it unless they knew it was there.
"How did you find this?" Broderick asked as he surveyed it.
"I've explored this forest since I was a small child and happened upon it one day. I loved it so much; I returned whenever I could. It has become my hidden oasis above the waterfall. It is a perfect place for me to draw and read my magazines and isolated enough to remain undiscovered by tourists. I've only seen the occasional avid hiker come anywhere near it. Most people tend to stay on the marked trails."
She sat down on a rock covered with moss and patches of tiny purple and yellow flowers. She gestured for him to sit down beside her. He took off his windbreaker and joined her. It was truly a lovely spot with an unequaled view of the waterfall as it poured over perfectly placed rocks. The sound of it was so tranquil and relaxing it soothed him.
Elise pulled a sketchbook and a box of colored pencils out of her backpack.
Broderick pointed to her sketchbook resting protectively on her lap. "What do you sketch?"
She smiled at him. "Nature mostly but I draw people too."
"Can I see them?"
She hesitated before reluctantly handing the sketchbook to him. "They're kind of rough."
He opened the sketchbook and was not disappointed. The first sketch was stunning. It depicted a bald eagle gliding over the waterfall just below them. He flipped to the next one of a timber wolf sunning itself on a large rock. The next was a drawing of the forest as sunlight filtered through the trees. She used the colored pencils expertly to bring each sketch to life
He stared at her with awe. "These sketches are quite lovely, Elise. You are a natural.”
She blushed. “Thank you.”
“Ever thought about recreating these drawings in another medium?"
"You mean in oils or pastels?"
He nodded.
"I wanted to learn to oil paint, but Papa said it was a useless hobby and I needed to focus on more important things."
Broderick frowned. "What things?"
"My culture. My father says I need to embrace it fully so that I will make a good wife to one of our males and pass our legacy on to my children," she said ruefully.
The thought of her marrying anyone had the hair standing up on the back of his neck, and his jaguar growled low and menacing. The thought of her with anyone but him was unthinkable. Here you go again, Devereaux. What is wrong with you? He thought. She doesn’t belong to you. You just met her.
"It’s what your tribe expects of you? What about your dreams, your ambitions for your life?"
"According to the tribal elders, our selfish goals are unimportant. Our tribe has lived here for thousands of years. Preserving our heritage is what's most important," she said bitterly, sadness in her eyes.
"They are wrong. Your culture is important, but that alone does not define who you are." He held out her sketchbook. "You are an artist, Elise, no question about it."
"Tell that to the tribal elders and my father."
They sat in silence, listening to the sound of the waterfall. It was evident the demands of her father and the tribal elders weighed heavily on her. He understood the importance of one's heritage all too well. He was a were-jaguar, and he couldn't change that. But he was also a man and had a life as one. Maybe he was fortunate. He didn't have to choose between one or the other; he would always be both. Not true for Elise. She had one path. The thought of her giving up her dreams to conform to her tribe's antiquated morays was ridiculous.
Broderick found himself needing to know more about her and her people despite his objections to their short-sighted view of women.
"What is the name of your tribe?"
"Snoqualmie.”
“I was talking to the hotel concierge at the lodge who told me he was Snoqualmie and lived in a village nearby.”
Elise smiled. “You mean Samuel. He lives in my village. I’ve known him and his wife since I was a little girl.”
“Small world.”
“Small tribe. There aren’t many of us left. Thus my father’s view of the world.”
“Tell me more about your tribe,” Broderick encouraged.
“We are called the Moon People," she told him with pride.
"Moon People?"
"Yes, it is part of our heritage and the legend of the Moon has been passed down from generation to generation."
"Legend of the Moon?" He asked. "Would you mind telling me?'
She nodded. "If you want to hear it."
"I do." He wanted to listen to her talk. Her voice was smooth as molasses and wove seductively around him.
"Our Elders say Moon the Transformer is the spirit from which we all descend. The legend tells of two sisters who went to the city of Snoqualmie to dig fern roots. They grew tired of digging up roots and decided to sleep there for the night. The sky was midnight blue and full of stars. The sisters lay back on their blanket and gazed at the sky, noticing two stars were brighter than the rest. Each sister wistfully wished each was a man they could marry. The mighty spirit heard they wish, and they were taken to the land of the Sky People while they slept.
“The sisters woke up, surprised to find they were each married to one of the bright stars. The sisters were happy and stayed with the Sky people for many years. Each day, their husbands went into the forest to hunt, and the sisters dug up fern roots. One day, the older sister discovered she was pregnant and months later, gave birth to a baby boy. She named him Moon.
“After some time had passed, the sisters began to miss their home and family on Earth. One morning, the sisters dug so deep they could see the Earth below and decided to go back. One sister continued to dig while the other watched baby Moon and weaved a rope out of tree bark. After working on it for fifteen days, it was long enough to reach the top of the mountain near their village. The sisters and baby Moon climbed down to Earth and went back to their family,
leaving their Sky husbands behind. Everyone was happy the sisters safely returned and were all delighted by baby Moon.
“During the sisters' homecoming celebration, the evil Dog Salmon stole the baby, Moon. Everyone tried to find him, but no one could. The sisters wished they had stayed with the Sky People. They mourned his loss until they died.
“Many years later, Blue Jay found Moon. He was a man with children of his own. Moon told Blue Jay he would come home when his offspring were adults. Moon's children grew up, and he returned to his childhood village. Moon had special powers. He used his gift to create a tribe of people who were hunters and gatherers. He fashioned a rich, green forest filled with wildlife and rivers teeming with salmon. He created the mighty Snoqualmie Falls to divide the spirits of the Snoqualmie region into two – a prairie and a valley. The two spirits would meet at the Falls giving Snoqualmie Falls extraordinary spiritual power. It is in the name of Moon, our ancestor, and selfless benefactor, we hold the Celebration of the Moon every year."
Broderick watched Elise's face in rapt fascination. Her green eyes were alight with excitement, and her face flushed with wonder. He could imagine her as a young girl, listening to the Elders repeat that story year after year. He wondered about the Moon celebration. Did the women of her village dance as part of their ritual? He wanted to see Elise dancing, free and uninhibited, with only her waist-long black hair covering her tantalizing silhouette as she swirled around in the light of the full moon.
"A fascinating story, Elise. I do have to say I find your tribal elders' view of a woman's place in your tribe ironic when it was two sisters who were responsible for bringing the Moon spirit to them."
Dawned (Circle of the Red Scorpion Book 3) Page 2