Maire [The Sisters O'Ryan 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Jenna Stewart

  Chapter Three

  Gus saw the woman exit the adobe home of John’s mother. She stumbled slightly and shielded her eyes when hit by the full force of the Arizona sun. After five days in that dim, windowless room, with the only light coming from oil lamps or whatever filtered through that blanket, sunlight would be nearly blinding.

  He admired her form. He was used to seeing the soft, leather, shapeless garments on other girls. The dresses themselves were minor works of art, but on the girl from the slot canyon in Bat Rock, it served as nothing more than a frame for beauty. Sturdy shoes shod her feet. But between them and the hem of the dress, curvy calves led up to what he imagined were slender thighs and trim hips. The leather nipped her waist and then stretched over the full globes of her breasts. His cock stirred, even though she stood across the courtyard. As if drawn by a Siren, he rose from the group of men preparing weapons for a hunt and strode toward her.

  “So you’re out in the fresh air again.”

  She looked up, squinting. “Yes, at long last. I can’t believe I’ve been here for six days.”

  “You were in bad shape. The sunburn looked so painful, John's mother prepared a sleeping potion to help you past the worst of it. And being out in the sun without water can do bad things to a body.“ Even a body as extraordinary as yours. “I hate to think what would have happened if we'd been a day later. How long were you trapped?”

  She shivered, but not, he knew, from the air temperature, which warmed his skin despite a light breeze. “Two nights. You and your friend found me on the second day.”

  “Between a lack of water and being snakebit, it’s a wonder you survived.”

  “Yes, the snake. I was delusional. I thought it was a pattern on a cup of water.”

  “King snakes have rings of color. They aren’t poisonous, but they can make you sick and the bites are very painful. I think the one that got you was young. On the rock for a bit of sun, most likely.”

  “Funny, but I would have given almost anything to get out of the sun.”

  She smiled gently, and his heart stopped a beat. With that smile, she transformed her face from beautiful to ethereal. Green eyes sparkled in the sunlight above a clear, peach-colored complexion. Her dark-brown hair, braided down her back, shone with reddish highlights. Gus couldn’t take his eyes off her. He wanted to kiss her in the worst way.

  “I’m glad we found you.”

  “I’m glad you found me in time,” she corrected. “We haven't been formally introduced. My name is Maire O’Ryan. And I am in your debt.”

  “I’m Augustus Brannigan, Miss O’Ryan. My Hopi friend is John Eagle, though around here he’s just Eagle.”

  “The whole time I was stuck in the rock I watched an eagle flying above me. And I dreamed of an eagle while I was ill.”

  Interesting. “The eagle is John’s spirit guide.” He examined her face, noticing a paleness that hadn’t been there a moment ago. He offered his arm. “Why don’t you come over here and sit for a few minutes?”

  He took her arm and guided her to a wooden seat along the front of John's mother's house. He sensed her sigh of relief after she sat.

  “Does Mr. Eagle live here?”

  “No, though he’s from here. He’s an Army scout, same as me.” He took the place beside her, enjoying the touch of his shoulder to hers. An inexplicable urge to touch more of her raged through him, but that wasn’t something a man did with a lady. He'd have to settle for getting to know her better. The idea appealed to him nearly as much.

  Quietly, she sat and seemed to observe the village. He knew it well, having been there with John so many times, but the simplicity of it still calmed him. “Bacavi is small compared to some of the other towns. There are eleven other adobes clustered around the central well and kiva entrance. The kiva is the underground ceremonial area where tribal business takes place.” The area glowed, shining from the light reflected off adobe, sand, and stone.

  “It’s strange thinking Mr. Eagle grew up here. He sounds as American as I.”

  Gus couldn’t help but laugh. “Since our families have been on the continent for a few generations and his people have been here for thousands of years, I’d say he’s more American than you or I.”

  “Oh!” Her eyes widened. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just, he speaks such good English.”

  “And you think the Clans can’t learn English?” John had materialized on the other side of Maire. Gus had been so focused on the woman that he missed his friend’s entrance to the conversation.

  “Do you think perhaps that Indians, heathens that we are, are too stupid to learn a language as complex as English?”

  “No, that’s not at all what I meant.”

  The surprised expression she’d shown when John commented on her words disappeared to be replaced by one approaching horror. Gus frowned, seeing her so discomfited by John's attitude.

  “I would never imply you were stupid. I—I am impressed that you’re so accomplished.”

  “As opposed to the rest of my Clan, who don’t understand English or the ways of the White man?”

  Her eyes glistening with burgeoning tears, she turned to him, and Gus took pity on her. “That isn’t what she meant. She’s not used to your ways.” He cocked a brow at his friend. “Or your unusual sensitivity.”

  John stared at him, his face as inscrutable as Gus had ever seen it—and that said something. Sometimes, the Indian was as hard to read as a trail long gone cold.

  “If I offended you,” John said to Maire, “I apologize.”

  “And if I have offend—”

  John stalked off before Maire could finish her sentence.

  “Don’t mind him too much, miss. This was the closest place to bring you for help, but it’s hard on him, coming home,” Gus explained in a low voice.

  “Why is that, Mr. Brannigan?”

  “Please call me Gus. And the reason is hard to explain. Suffice it to say that John is part of a heritage a millennia old, but he doesn’t belong to it, not anymore.” He shifted his attention to his friend, now approaching the perimeter of the village, where the two of them had made camp. “He’s had the best education in the West and yet he doesn’t know who he is.”

  * * * *

  Maire sat on the bench a while longer after Gus Brannigan followed John Eagle. She hadn’t meant to upset the Indian man. She had been with the ethnologists only a month, and had yet to have any contact with actual Indians.

  And now here she was, surrounded by natives. Except for John Eagle’s sister, none of them seemed particularly friendly. The stares she received from the men sitting in a group a short distance off were more hostile than curious, and not one of the woman in the open square approached her.

  “You came with the scientists?” Maire found John Eagle’s sister standing next to her.

  She scooted down to allow the girl to sit.

  “Yes, but I am not a scientist myself.”

  The nascent Bureau of Ethnology, formed at the behest of the explorer John Wesley Powell to record the culture of the American Southwest before it inevitably changed with the influx of the White man. When the Bureau advertised that they needed not only professional ethnologists, but support staff to transcribe the information, pack it for transference to Washington, D.C., and other clerical duties, Maire had applied. Ironically, after all her studying and preparation, it had taken the clumsy act of falling through a crack in a rock to introduce her to a real native.

  She tilted her head to see the girl sitting beside her. “Have you met any of the scientists?”

  The girl shook her head. “They talk to the men only. Masichuvio—Gray Deer—has been to their camp.”

  Maire thought of the tented camp, less comfortable than this simple clay home, and yet so much more collegial. She was surrounded by people here, and yet felt very alone. “Who is Gray Deer?”

  The girl blushed under her dark complexion. “He is the fiercest hunter in our village. He is strong as a bear and wh
en he looks at me…” She stopped as though she’d forgotten she spoke out loud.

  “You’re in love with him,” Maire said, and smiled. “Does he know?”

  The girl gave a soft toss of her head, staring off to the right. Maire followed her gaze and saw a tall, handsome young man staring back at the girl. Leather pants covered his legs, and a vest of the same material hugged his chest. His arms bulged with muscles. Beside him another man also stared at the girl. Neither face held a friendly expression when their gazes landed on her, but Maire would swear that both men’s gaze softened while focused on John Eagle’s sister.

  She studied the men. “Is the taller man him?”

  “Yes. The man with him is Mochni, Talking Bird.” The girl sighed. “I shouldn't tell you their names. It is for them to share with you, if they choose.” She looked at Maire and smiled shyly. “But we are friends, are we not? Perhaps someday we will also be sisters, as Eagle and Gus are brothers.”

  Astounded and touched, Maire said, “I am honored that you would consider that.”

  Gray Deer nodded at John Eagle’s sister before walking away.

  “He does not like the White man,” the girl explained. “Many here feel the same.”

  That would be why no one greeted her. John Eagle’s mother and sister took her in most likely because of John and not to help her. She appreciated their efforts even more because of it. “My name is Maire.”

  “My-ra,” the girl repeated. “What does it mean?”

  “It’s after Mary, the mother of our Lord.”

  The Indian girl seemed to digest this. “I am called Pavati. It means Clear Water. It’s a good name because water is so important to our people. My mother is Sihu, meaning Flower.”

  “What lovely names. Do you mind if I call you Clear Water?”

  She smiled shyly. “That would be nice.”

  “Did your brother teach you English?”

  “Eagle was sent away to school as a boy, and we saw little of him. But each time he came home he taught me some of what he learned. I’ve never been able to use my English much until now.”

  “He must have been very special to have the privilege of attending school.”

  “Our father insisted. He saw more and more Whites in the land. He thought Eagle would make a better leader if he knew the White man’s ways.”

  Maire tucked that information away to mull over later. If John Eagle was to have been a leader of his Clan, why then was he an Army scout? “Are you upset that your brother works with the Whites?”

  Clear Water was quiet a long time. Maire watched a woman walk to the well with a pottery jar on her head. She drew water and poured it into the jar. Then she balanced it on her head with one hand and walked away without paying the watchers on the bench any attention.

  “Some want Eagle to come back and lead us. Others want him to stay away if he has chosen the White man over the Clan. But I just miss my brother.”

  Perhaps the heat affected her, or the effects of being out of bed for the first time in days, but fatigue pulled at Maire. “He’s here now,” she said.

  “Yes. But perhaps he shouldn’t be.” Clear Water studied her for a moment. “You should rest.” She stood and helped Maire up.

  Once inside the adobe home, and away from hostile glares, Maire relaxed. She pulled the blanket curtain partially closed and then removed the leather dress and her shoes. Gratefully, she collapsed on the pallet, wearing only her chemise. In short order, she drifted off to sleep amongst thoughts of the friendly eyes of Augustus Brannigan, the wary, dark-eyed stare of John Eagle, and the suspicious, unfriendly looks from the villagers. Just as she fell asleep, she had the feeling of being suspended between heaven and Earth, belonging in neither world.

  And always, an eagle soared above, his sharp gaze on her.

  Chapter Four

  “How do you feel this morning?” Clear Water came into her sleeping area with a steaming blue corn cake.

  “Fine, I think,” Maire responded. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and examined the sunlight from where the blanket had been left opened. It was as bright as midday. “I must have slept a few hours.”

  Clear Water laughed. “You have been asleep since yesterday afternoon when we came indoors.”

  “What?” Sleep and rest were all part of healing, but Maire had no idea she had worn herself out just by sitting outside yesterday. “You and your mother must think me terribly rude.”

  “You needed rest. But now I think you must also need food and water.” The woman pointed to a pitcher beside the pallet.

  Maire took the corn cake and nibbled. “Please sit and talk to me while I eat.”

  “Maire,” Clear Water said in a low voice, “may I tell you a secret?”

  Maire leaned forward, increasing the feeling of intimacy between them. “Of course. You can trust me.”

  “Last night after dark, Masichuvio came and told my mother and Eagle that he wants to marry me. They accepted his proposal. Today I will bake a sweet corn cake. Tonight mother and I will take it to the home of Masichuvio. It is my indication that I would like to marry him also. But no one else knows.”

  “Clear Water, that’s wonderful. I could tell how much you care by the way you spoke about him yesterday.”

  “I hoped he felt the same as I do.”

  “Why is it a secret?”

  Clear Water dropped her head. “I think because of Mochni. He likes me, I believe, and they are best friends. Masichuvio thinks we should follow tradition strictly to avoid any tension.”

  And Gray Deer would want to be sure the deal was sealed before bringing on trouble with his best friend. “What comes after you give him the cake?”

  Clear Water’s face lit with excitement. “If his mother accepts the cake—”

  “His mother?”

  “Mothers make all the decisions in the Clan related to the home and property. Men handle all the religious ceremonies, the hunting, and weaving.”

  “Where I live, men work in the mills and weave, too. We have more in common than we know.”

  “Well, if his mother accepts my cake, I go to live with them for three days. Every day I will grind the corn and try to show her that I know how to be a good wife. Then his mother and mine will wash our hair and weave it together. That will signify our union.”

  Maire took a healthy bite of the cooled cake. “How very interesting. And then will you live with Gray Deer and his mother?”

  “Yes.” She stopped and took a breath. “Mother will be alone. I will be sorry for that.”

  “But you will be very close.”

  “Yes, that is true.” Her smile lit the room. “I can’t think that his mother will turn away my cake. I must believe that Masichuvio and I will be married very soon. I’m happy.”

  Maire reached out for her hand and squeezed it. “I’m very happy for you.”

  “Have you ever been in love?”

  “No, sadly.” An image of Gus staring at her with love in his eyes flashed through her mind, followed by the same image of John Eagle. Two men. So alike and yet so different. Both so appealing!

  Maire Bridget O'Ryan! What's wrong with you, thinking of two men in such terms?

  “I wish some wonderful man looked at me the way I saw Gray Deer look at you yesterday.”

  “I’m sure it will happen, Maire.” She jumped up. “And now I will let you get dressed. I have to start grinding the corn for my special sweet corn cake.” She squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them, looking ever so happy.

  When Clear Water exited, Maire finished her breakfast and took a moment for water. Then she dressed and went outdoors, to the wooden bench in front of the adobe.

  She wasn’t alone long. Gus joined her. She felt her cheeks heat when she remembered how she had pictured him just minutes before.

  “There will be a ceremony tomorrow before the hunters go out for the hunt. Would you be interested in joining me for the dances?”

  “Very much, thank you. But I'm f
eeling so much better, I should go back to my job.”

  “How’s your wrist?”

  She held up her hand. “A little stiff, but overall, fine.”

  “Oh.” He sat silently for a moment or two. “Please stay anyway.”

  She tilted her head and studied him. “Why?”

  “I thought the ethnologists wanted to learn about Indian culture. Here you are, in the midst of it.”

  “That’s true.” She mulled over her extraordinary access. “I hate to intrude on Mr. Eagle’s family any longer than necessary.”

  “I’ll check, but I’m sure they won’t mind having you stay a day longer. I can explain the dance to you.”

  “I would love to see and learn more about the Hopi culture. If Mr. Eagle’s mother doesn’t mind, I will stay.”

  Looking amused, he said, “John’s mother will agree. She’s a very nice woman. By the same token I’m also sure she would like to see the back of you as soon as possible.”

  She had seen very little of the woman, but her attitude on those few occasions had not been very solicitous. “I told Clear Water—”

  He laughed. “Clear Water, is it? She must like you if she shared her name. Names to the Hopi are very important things. They don’t toss them around to strangers like we do.”

  “I like her, too. Anyway, when I said I wished there was something I could do to repay their kindness, John Eagle’s mother said she wanted me to release him. What did she mean?”

  He looked surprised and then solemn. “The woman suspects more than I thought.”

  “But what does she mean?”

  Shaking his head he said, “You need to talk to John about that. It’s not for me to explain his actions.” In a move that surprised Maire, he reached out and touched her hair. “But I will talk to his mother about your staying, and tomorrow we’ll have a good time watching all the activity. The next day will be soon enough to take you back.”

  She looked around the open area. No one displayed any more friendliness than the previous day, but sitting there with Gus, she felt comfortable and somehow, a part of village life. He appeared carefree, but she sensed a great level of reliability in him. She knew him already to be loyal to John Eagle. He seemed to fit into the tribal ways, for everything she had seen indicated they accepted him.