by Nat Burns
Chapter Fifty-Nine
She didn’t call beforehand, although she could have. She wasn’t sure what prompted the need for secrecy, but it was as if she had to feel Delora’s presence before seeing her again. Standing outside the small cottage, Sophie felt energized and comforted by the other woman’s proximity and the heat of the sun on her shoulders. She watched a long time, the better part of an hour. She studied Delora’s small car, the bare, sandy patch of lawn, how the blue storm shutters attached perfectly to each front window and how the newly planted oleander bushes added to the beauty of the home.
“Sophie?” Delora had either seen or felt her.
Sophie smiled and moved toward the partially opened screen door. Her eyes met Delora’s and she knew everything was going to be okay. Better than okay.
“What are you doing out in the heat?” Delora asked as she pulled Sophie inside. Box fans peppered the two small rooms and a surprisingly cool movement of air circled the two of them. “Why didn’t you come on in?”
Sophie stood just inside the door, hesitant and curious. “I wasn’t sure…”
Delora nodded as she moved toward the kitchen area. “I know,” she said quietly as she poured sweet tea. “I’m having a hard time with it too.”
She passed a glass to Sophie and indicated they should sit. Side by side on the sofa, they fell silent as they sipped coolness. The drone of the fans was peaceful and they stayed that way a good while.
“Mama wants me to move to Florida with her,” Sophie said finally.
“No. Don’t leave us, Sophie. Don’t leave me, I couldn’t bear it.” Delora spoke to her glass, eyes downcast, but Sophie felt each syllable as it crawled along her spine and gripped her heart. The joy of heaven’s divine light filled her and a dizzying wave of giddiness rocked her.
“Whew,” she said.
Delora turned a tremulous but loving gaze on Sophie, and they fell together like butter on hot toast. Their glasses of iced tea barely made it to the coffee table, and it felt as though they choked on each other’s gasps of delight. The kisses were everlasting and encompassing and both women spun dizzily in a swirling dance of free joy and passion. Delora’s body ached from the compass arrow of desire that was pointing toward Sophie. Sophie felt as though she had become water, a stream that flowed across Delora and settled possessively into every crevice.
Sophie lifted Delora’s T-shirt and pressed her lips to the salty expanse of skin below her breasts. She spread her large, strong hands wide and splayed them across Delora’s moist skin. The heady lemon scent of Delora, the feel of her small body so close, brought tears of relief to her eyes. She pressed her cheek against Delora’s flank and breathed a harsh sigh of relief. How could she ever think of leaving this love of her life? “I love you, Lora, so much.”
Delora pulled Sophie’s face close to hers. “Don’t leave me, Sophie. Don’t leave.”
“No,” Sophie whispered against Delora’s lips. “I’m wherever you are, sweetheart.”
Filled with joyful passion, Delora snaked Sophie’s shirt over her shoulders and threw it to one side. Her small hands roamed the sleek expanse of Sophie’s broad shoulders.
“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, her eyes finding Sophie’s. She pressed her lips to the swell of Sophie’s breast and unknowingly lit a fire. Sophie’s breathing stopped as Delora’s hands moved lower, gently cupping the breasts, her fingers tantalizing the sensitive nipples. When Delora looked up, Sophie saw that Delora’s eyes had deepened in color and sharpened with passion. The sight, so desired yet unexpected, caused a low moan to rip from Sophie. She felt paralyzed suddenly by the depth of her own need. The swollen cleft that represented her womanhood lurched in desperate longing and she felt faint.
Delora showed no mercy. Her kisses on Sophie’s body lingered, her tongue drawing tribal symbols until Sophie wanted to scream. Her senses were torn between intense pleasure and a need for time to react. Both needs were unbearable, yet she felt powerless to move away or toward, held in some devilish hinterland, every sensation heightened to unimagined heights.
“Delora,” she gasped, confused and not sure what she wanted to say.
Delora’s hand slid along Sophie’s hip. She muttered an acknowledgment, but when Sophie didn’t respond, she reclined farther and insinuated one leg between Sophie’s thighs, pulling her closer. The pressure caused Sophie to orgasm, harshly and powerfully. Gasping, Sophie shuddered as Delora held her close, raining soft kisses along her face and neck.
Sophie fought to recover. Limp, she pressed her mouth onto Delora’s. She pushed her tongue inside and felt Delora’s indrawn breath. Heat radiated from Delora and, bathed in this, Sophie regained her energy and sense of self. Renewed passion ignited and Sophie undressed her lover, their gazes locked. She leaned in to press a forceful, fucking kiss into her, then leaned back to see what new blaze had erupted. She did this time and again as their clothes burned away and their hands gently frolicked in heated wet ponds and stroked bundles of mounting tension. Hours passed and, blending their bodies, the two women found each other anew while rekindling everything that had come before.
Chapter Sixty
“I need to tell you something.”
Sophie swam out of a welcome doze so she could pay attention to what Delora was saying.
“What is it, honey?” she muttered.
“Hinchey killed Louie.”
Sophie rolled over, readjusting the sheet that covered them. She was fully awake.
“What?”
Delora sighed and chewed on her thumbnail. She was propped against the headboard and looked adorable with her blond hair mussed from lovemaking. “Not on purpose, of course. He was just protecting me. He tackled Louie and Louie hit his head on one of those concrete trash cans at the park. It was an accident.”
Sophie thought about this for a long minute. “Is Hinchey okay? You need to tell him it’s okay. It was just Louie’s time to go.”
“He’s struggling some. He left Redstar last week. Went to Arizona, New Mexico…somewhere like that. He met this gal on the Internet and she lives there. I think he’ll be okay. The problem is, someone, some drunk, saw, and now this no-account bastard is trying to blackmail me about it. Wants me to pay him a little each month to keep quiet.”
Silence grew sharp in the room, and Delora could sense Sophie’s anger swell.
“Who is he, Delora?” Sophie asked, her voice tight.
Delora watched Sophie, marveling at her tightly controlled anger. “I...I don’t know, Sophie. I never got his name.”
Sophie rose into a sitting position and, though naked, her anger gave her a presence and command that no three-piece power suit could have imparted. “You need to tell me everything you remember about him.”
Delora recoiled slightly. Subconsciously, she had sensed the other woman’s incredible authority over life and nature, but it was not something she could put into words. Now, in this moment, she was seeing it and it was daunting. She knew, horribly, that Sophie could and would do whatever was necessary to further the good in life. Delora’s mind raced. She didn’t know whether to be alarmed or intrigued. The hard part of her, the part that had dealt with the burns, with Louie and Rosalie, with losing her family and overcoming the addiction to pain medication…that part found some comfort in Sophie’s wrath. It wrapped about her and let her know that, at last, someone cared when no one had for such a long time. She slowly began talking and told Sophie everything she could remember, beginning with the day she’d first seen Hard Eyes.
Sophie listened, her head cocked thoughtfully to one side, even long after Delora quieted. When she spoke, her words sent a chill down Delora’s spine, even as they comforted her. “Thank you, sweetheart. I want you to forget about this man. I’ll meet with him tomorrow, so don’t you worry. You did nothing wrong.” She captured Delora’s face between her two palms so she would be forced to look into Sophie’s eyes. “Do you believe me?”
Delora did believe her and a sens
e of relief coursed across her. Speechless, she pulled free and buried her face in the curve of Sophie’s neck. Sophie held her close.
Chapter Sixty-One
He walked into Blossom’s right at two p.m. Marina had come to relieve Delora, and she studied him with curious eyes.
“I don’t like the look of him,” she whispered to Delora as they passed behind the counter. “Why he all of a sudden hangin’ around here?” She eyed her co-worker accusingly. “You ain’t foolin’ with him, are you?”
“God, no,” Delora said. “You know me better than that.”
Marina’s eyes grew fond. “I thought I did,” she agreed.
Sophie entered the diner, and her gaze fell on Hard Eyes right away. She looked to Delora and a silent signal passed between them. Fear rattled inside as she watched Sophie slide into the booth across from the blackmailer. They knew one another, she could tell, and she wasn’t sure how she should feel about that.
“That’s your Sophie. What’s she doing?” Marina said behind Delora.
Delora glanced back. “My Sophie? What do you mean?”
Marina bestowed Delora with a knowing smirk as she rearranged napkin holders on the counter. “Don’t be silly,” she answered.
Delora blushed, wondering who else in Redstar knew they were a couple. She realized suddenly that it no longer mattered. If they were going to make their home here, everyone would know soon enough.
“I don’t know what she’s doing,” she mused, watching as the two sat in the booth and conversed. She was surprised to see them laugh together.
Sophie stood and motioned for Delora to follow her as she left Blossom’s.
Delora told Marina goodbye and turned toward the kitchen. She leaned to hang her apron on the hook just inside the door and Hard Eyes seemed to materialize next to her.
“I didn’t know you was Miss Sophie’s girl,” he began haltingly. “I just wanted to apologize is all. I didn’t mean no harm.”
Delora watched him calmly, though hatred still churned in her heart like a timid rodent. She tried to rise above it. “No harm done,” she said, pushing past him and out the back door.
Marina stepped in to replace her, lifting one slim, tanned arm to block the kitchen entryway. “I’m sorry, sir. Customers are not allowed inside,” she said smugly.
Chapter Sixty-Two
“I don’t know how to do this,” Delora muttered, eyes darting to Sophie.
Mary, even in the midst of the contraction, heard the remark and tried to reassure her. Ever the mother, she boasted Delora’s capabilities between every gasp of the next contraction.
“It’ll be all right, honey. You go ahead and try—we’ve been down this road a number of times before and Lady Sophie’s right here. She borned my other three.”
Her knobbed hands tightened on her stomach as she paused to let pain stomp across her.
“She’s probably just tired of seein’ what I can push out. Must be your turn.”
Hot water poured from Mary’s body and bathed Delora’s knees even though she jumped aside to avoid the bulk of it. The baby’s crown appeared, dark hair matted and wet, looking weirdly like a button fastening together the opening of Mary’s body.
“You loosen the baby like this,” Sophie guided, her gloved fingers smoothing the outer rim of the baby’s skull and gently stretching the opening, pushing the taut labia to either side. The baby’s head protruded suddenly amid more avid fonts of blood-tinged water.
Delora instinctively reached to prevent the imminent fall, palms and fingers curved with perfect capture round that warm globe of soft flesh and hair. The feeling was incredible, and she stroked presses of flesh one against the other. Another contraction sent a sluice of water across her forearms.
Remembering Sophie’s instruction, she turned the baby as best she could and the face was there—little pruned-up features right there in her face. She held the baby as Sophie suctioned out the nose and mouth and he was crying. Not even out of the birth canal and this baby was spouting off. I bet it’s a boy, Delora thought with much merriment.
Then the baby was slippery in her hands, hot and wet and heavy, all the while feeling like a bag of bones and snot and she just knew she was going to drop it and Mary would hate her and Sophie would turn from her. Somehow she held on, then Sophie was there with a warm blanket, and she took the baby into the safety of the blanket, reminding Delora to tie off the cord. The baby was crying, his swollen testicles bobbing with every yell he expressed. Kicking his feet, he almost threw himself off the blanket and Sophie had to steady him while Delora tied surgical twine on two places along the umbilical cord.
Then, with a snip, Cody Ramp Staton became a separate being—attached to his mother with bonds of love and trust only. The thought touched Delora’s heart, and she held the scissors a long time, totally still amid the frantic activity of cleaning and wrapping the infant.
Sophie, after a preliminary examination, left the infant to Mary’s two sisters and moved to massage the fundus of Mary’s uterus. She studied Delora with gentle pride. “She did well, didn’t she, Mary?”
Mary raised her head and looked at Delora with tired, puffy eyes. “Good job, young ’un. I think you’ve got the healer in you.”
Embarrassed, Delora dipped her head and set about tidying the glorious mess of childbirth. Later, studying the life she’d helped bring into the world, she felt suffused with something. A type of wellness, of healing, stole across her. Life meanings clicked into place and, for the very first time in her life, almost everything made sense in a wonderful nonsensical way.
Chapter Sixty-Three
“This is it,” Delora said quietly as she held the passenger door open for Bucky.
Bucky pulled himself from the car and accepted the leg harness she handed him.
The unique new contraption Bucky was wearing when he disembarked the plane had amazed Delora. Normal crutches and prostheses were a hard fit for Bucky Clyde as he was missing his entire left arm and left leg and so had no good anchor. Using his game developing software, as he had explained on the drive into Redstar, Bucky had designed the leather and rigid plastic harness that belted across his body like a corset. Extending from this, from a beautifully articulated steel joint over his shoulder, was a polished steel framework arm ending in three soft, rubber-tipped metal fingers. Although robotic in appearance, it was a marvel of useful engineering and served him well.
The bottom of the corset held a secondary wraparound molded plastic harness that cupped his lower body and held a similar steel cage leg. The only difference, which was downright strange, was that Bucky had opted for an alien design that in no way resembled a human limb. The bottom of the leg was a bent spade of semi-rigid metal that buoyed him along better than any natural appendage. Seeing him lope almost gracefully across the airport terminal had brought hot tears to her eyes. She hadn’t known Bucky before the crash that had changed him, but for the first time Delora had an inkling of who he used to be.
“This place is great,” Bucky said as he leaned against the car and strapped on his lower harness.
Delora, fetching his bag from the trunk, smiled at him. “It is. I can’t imagine living anywhere else now. I used to have a little cottage a couple miles down the road but gave it up when Sophie and me started working together. It just made sense.”
“I bet,” he said, his one good eye mocking her. “Speak of the devil. Is that her?”
Delora turned and saw that Sophie had come out of Salamander House and was leaning over the porch railing watching them. An irresistible smile found Delora’s lips as she gazed upon the source of her newfound happiness. Sophie smiled back and beckoned them toward the house.
“That’s her,” Delora responded.
“I see,” Bucky said, amusement flavoring his voice.
“Stop it,” Delora said, laughing. “Come on, let’s go in.”
Delora allowed Bucky to go first so she could follow at his pace. She needn’t have bothered. Bucky made
it across the lawn and up the porch steps surprisingly quickly with no trouble.
“I have to say, it’s finally good to meet you, Bucky Clyde. Lora talks about you all the time, every day,” Sophie told him. “You’ve been a good friend to her.”
“And her to me,” he responded, watching Sophie carefully as if wondering how much of his sentence she would get and how repulsed she would be by his appearance.
“That’s our Delora,” Sophie responded with a smile, taking his words and appearance in stride, chattering on about the construction of the house. When Delora gained the porch, Sophie comfortably wrapped one arm about her waist, pulling her close as they made small talk.
“So this is him,” Clary stated as she stepped through the screen door. She studied Bucky, standing with her hands on her hips, a damp dishtowel trailing from one hand. She was wearing her usual jeans with a sleeveless pink shirt and her tightly curled hair was pinned into a cheerful mop atop her head. Her smooth brown face tried for severity but failed. “Shoot. You said he was missing some parts, Delora. Looks to me, he’s got more than enough and can get around better than we can.”
She moved forward and impulsively touched his metal and plastic shoulder. Bucky smiled and postured for her.
“Designed it myself,” he said proudly.
“What?”
Delora started to interpret, but Clary gestured her to silence. “He can tell me,” she said.
Sophie laughed softly. “They’re a pair, those two,” she said to Delora.
“I designed them.” He took his time, enunciating as clearly as possible.
“No shit! You did a fine job.” She allowed her fingers and eyes to admire the intricate workings for another moment before linking her arm through his prosthesis and leading him inside. “I just know you’re hungry,” she said, her voice trailing back to Sophie and Delora.