Guarding Miranda

by Amanda M. Holt

  He just stayed there for a moment, looking down into her enchanting green eyes, kissing her with soft, joyous, reckless abandon.

  She felt him throbbing, deep within her.

  All he knew was the soft, warm, moist heat of her, surrounding him.

  Finally, he began to move and she began to moan, her body crying out to know all of him.

  Rain drummed on the roof, the verandah and lightning flashed intermittently, in a sky that had been darkened by storm clouds. The rain fell, the lightning flashed and the thunder rumbled but all paled in comparison to the storm that raged inside of Miranda.

  She opened her eyes while Brian made love to her and saw him staring down at her, his eyes the color of the storm outside.

  With each thrust, Brian gave her his all, gave her his secret, silent love, until finally, her sheath was gripping him as only she could do.

  It was then that he could hold back no longer.

  It was then that he spent his seed, filling the condom between them.

  They lie there, sated, satisfied before the fireplace, Miranda in his arms.

  She should have been without a worry in the world in that moment but there was something on her mind.

  Something that had the potential to change both of their lives forever.

  The flow of blood that normally marked her menstrual period had not yet come.

  Not yet.

  And with each new day she was filled with growing dread and wonderment.

  Her breasts were tender and seemed larger but didn’t they always get that way, right before her period?

  Her nipples were darker and scents seems stronger.

  She didn’t voice her concerns to Brian, how could she?

  And besides, she thought, I might not even be pregnant. My period has come late before.

  Though not this late.

  Never this late...

  The day after the storm, Miranda crept up behind Brian and put her arms around his neck.

  “Feel like taking a drive?” She asked, kissing his cleanly shaved cheek.

  “Sure.” He turned his head to kiss her lips. “Where to, love?”

  “The city we came in from: Dauphin. I’ve a need for a good paperback novel and the Emporium doesn’t carry any.” She paused. “Dauphin has a WalMart, I should be able to check out the new best sellers there.”

  “Sounds good to me,” he told her, holding her close. “When do you want to leave?”

  “Sooner is better.”

  So they left after dinner, in the burgundy Ford Focus.

  By one thirty, they were in Dauphin, driving though the busy little city on their way to the WalMart at the Dauphin Marketplace Mall.

  “What a nice little mall,” she remarked, as they parked the car. “It seemed bigger when I drove by the first time.”

  The building was one long stretch of stores, with lit signs on the walls announcing the shops within.

  They were near the WalMart entrance and as they walked, Miranda had to fight an urge to hold Brian’s hand.

  Her joy, her love for him sometimes manifested itself in these small, barely repressible ways. She felt sometimes as though her heart might burst with the force of her happiness alone.

  And sometimes, just sometimes, she was able to imagine that he felt the same way, too...

  They entered the mall near a short row of pay phones and two children’s rides: a space ship and a rocking horse.

  They went into the WalMart, Brian leading the way, cutting a path through the people they encountered.

  His size tended to do that, warrant respect, if not fear as well.

  “Well, there’s a book display over there.” He told her, pointing toward the furthest cash register.

  “Let’s go there.”

  Soon, she was considering two books. The newest Stephen King, which she had meant to read but hadn’t yet and the latest work by Dean Koontz.

  “A fan of the horror novels, are you?” Brian quipped, himself thumbing through a work by Tom Clancy.

  “Sometimes,” she said, stealing a glance at a row of pink-covered books.

  Her favorite romance novelist had two new volumes out.

  It was too bad, really but she wasn’t about to betray her love of romance novels to him, no way.

  He would surely laugh at her so-called female sensitivities that he often found amusing.

  “Not a fan of Danielle Steel, love?”

  “Nope.” She lied. “Too girly.”

  “Full of surprises, aren’t you?” Brian shelved the Tom Clancy.

  “You know that I am...”

  In the family planning section of the WalMart pharmacy, Brian selected a box of gold-foil wrapped condoms designed for men his size.

  Nearby were the pregnancy tests.

  Miranda felt nervous the entire time that they stood there.

  Am I or am I not? She wondered, wishing for all the world that she could buy a few tests and find out.

  But with Brian watching her every move, that wasn’t about to happen…

  In the checkout line, Brian caught Miranda by surprise by asking the clerk where the nearest park was.

  “Well, there’s Vermillion Park, here in town but doesn’t have all that much to offer. If you’re looking for a nice touristy place, you could go up through the Riding Mountains to Clear Lake.” The clerk handed Brian his change. “It’s very nice this time of year.”

  And so they consulted the map and drove down the highway, up into the Riding Mountain National Park.

  The place didn’t seem so much a mountain to Miranda as a collection of steep hills but then she had been spoiled by flying over the Sierra Nevadas on countless occasions, by skiing in the Rockies and the Swiss Alps.

  As they traveled, they were surrounded by a lush forest of spruce, pine and poplar, spotted with the occasional oak and maple tree. Twenty minutes into their trip Brian had to slow the car to avoid a large moose crossing the road.

  “Will you look at the rack on that one!” He exclaimed, at the twelve pointed horns that adorned the top of the huge animal’s head.

  “What is that?”

  “A moose, love,” he informed her, with a grin.

  The moose crossed safely and Brian urged the car forward, up the rest of the hill they had been ascending.

  A short time later, they found signs of civilization, literally.

  A few signs marking roads to camping areas and cabin plots. Soon, they were turning into Wasagaming and following the main road into the small town.

  Miranda was of the impression that Wasagaming was indeed a tourist town.

  Its few streets were lined on either side by craft and gift shops, cafes and ice cream parlors, restaurants and convenience stores.

  They drove the main street of the town and soon found that Wasagaming even sported a theater, surprisingly and an inn or motel on almost every street.

  There was a gas station, a post office and even a bar. Next to the main drag was a small park.

  Beyond the park, a short sandy beach could be seen before a great expanse of clear blue lake.

  They parked the car on a street parallel to the park, nearest the lake and proceeded to investigate the many eclectic-looking shops.

  Brian suggested they stop for ice cream and so they did, Miranda choosing frozen yogurt over the more calorie laden treat. They window shopped until they found an outlet that appealed to them, inside which they found displays of soapstone carvings done by the Inuit people of remote northern Canada and beaded leatherwork done by the local indigenous peoples.

  Miranda was amazed by the pieces of art that the local natives created by biting birchbark, their skilled teeth marking the peach colored bark with impressions that were surprisingly intricate.

  “You mean to tell me that they actually made these patterns by biting the bark?” Miranda queried, upon reading the cards that accompanied the works.

  “Oh, yes and rather well, too,” replied the anxious clerk. “It’s a dying a
rt. It’s said that only a handful of women in Manitoba still know how to do it.”

  Miranda left the store with three of the intricate craft.

  Two of bumblebees for herself and her Aunt Nancee and one of a stunningly complex flower for her cousin Lynn.

  Lynn, a California State University Archeology major pursuing a minor in Anthropology, would no doubt appreciate an authentic Native Canadian souvenir.

  Miranda did not mind the exorbitant prices.

  Souvenirs were one of the few things she truly liked to indulge in. It wasn’t really as bad as the receipt read, she had paid for her purchases with American currency and the exchange on the dollar was well over thirty percent!

  One of the shops they visited was a women’s specialty clothing store.

  Therein did they find a display of sarongs with fringed edges, some tie-dyed with patterns, some solid in color.

  One in dark green caught Miranda’s eye. It was faded in spots, as though stonewashed and was marked with white flaming suns, of various size and design.

  “Should I get it?” She asked Brian, marveling at the silky feel of the material.

  “It’s your color.” Imagining her in it, he added a whispered, “Can’t wait to take it off of you, love...”

  So she bought it.

  In another shop, a log cabin marked The Wizard’s Den, they found an awesome display of wood carvings of pipes, utensils, decorative plates, knives and wall hangings.

  Brian picked up one of the pipes and ran his fingers over the intriguing carving. The wizened visage of an old man had been cut into the face of the bowl of the pipe.

  Try as he might, Brian could not put the pipe down.

  “I absolutely have to get this for my Aunt Bernie.” He decided, speaking partially to himself and partially to Miranda. “She collects pipes, she’ll love this one.”

  “She smokes a pipe?” Miranda was amused.

  “Wears army boots, too.” He grinned at her. “It’s nearly ninety dollars but I’d hate to leave Canada without having bought her a souvenir of the place.”

  “It’s rather unique. If she’s as eccentric as you say, I’m sure she’ll love it.”

  Purchases in hand, they caught the five o’clock movie that was playing at the theater and considered a place to eat supper.

  They decided on the restaurant that they had parked by, since the screened-in seating area faced the beautiful lake.

  Miranda sated her appetite with a pungent teriyaki chicken with wild rice and tender young asparagus in lemon sauce. Brian fed his hunger with a rosemary seasoned salmon steak, couscous and tangy marinated baby vegetables.

  Both agreed that it was the best meal they had eaten in a long time, no offense meant to either of them, who had taken turns cooking throughout their stay in Manitoba.

  Intrigued by the promise of a magician’s performance at nine o’clock, they stuck around for the show.

  Miranda ordered a Singapore Sling and then changed her mind, considering the tiny life that might be thriving within her.

  If she was pregnant, she had not fully decided what she was going to do.

  With the resources she had at her disposal, she could afford options that weren’t available to most single women…

  Trying not to let her worry show, she joined Brian in the non-alcoholic equivalent: a fruity Shirley Temple.

  At precisely nine o’clock, the talented young magician took his place upon the dais that served as a stage and wowed his eager audience with feats of illusion and magic.

  Brian was made rather jealous of the handsome young man as he made his rounds through the crowd, pulling a coin from behind Miranda’s ear.

  He had to restrain himself from punching the boy in the mouth as the magician daringly took Miranda’s hand and kissed the back of it, before leaving theirs for the next table.

  “Punk,” Brian muttered under his breath, into his Shirley Temple.

  “Why Brian,” began Miranda, clearly amused, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

  “Well, maybe I am,” he growled, low in his throat.

  “Jealous?” She lightly teased. “How could you be jealous?”

  “I saw the way your eyes lit up when he took your hand,” said Brian, quietly. “Don’t tell me you weren’t attracted to him.”

  “God, Brian,” she laughed. “He’s a pretty boy. You, on the other hand, are a devastatingly handsome man. He all but pales in comparison.”

  Brian’s’ face lit up. “You think I’m devastatingly handsome, Miranda? Since when?”

  “Since supper that night at my uncle’s, when we were properly introduced.”

  “So you rally are rather fond of me, huh?”

  She let her hand fall to brush the back of his. “You know that I am.”

  “But are you fond enough of me to keep me?” He asked, his heart hanging on the question.

  They were interrupted by the waitress, who presented their bill.

  “Have a nice evening,” said the lithe blond girl.

  “You too.” Brian and Miranda chorused together.

  Miranda tore the bill out of his hand before he could complain and began to rise from her seat. “Let’s take a walk on the beach, shall we?”

  “Are you enjoying emasculating me?”

  “Immensely,” she giggled.

  Upon leaving the restaurant, they were subject to a pleasantly warm breeze coming off of the lake. The sun was setting in orange and fuschia brilliance behind clouds that were alternately dark mauve and flaming red.

  They walked side by side, speaking of trivial things, pleasant things, catching a glimpse into each others’ thoughts and souls.

  “Looks like it’s going to be a beautiful sunset.” Brian turned to her as they reached the sandy promenade, wonderment in his eyes. “You looks so lovely in this light, the orange lighting your eyes, your hair, your skin...”

  Holding on to him for support, Miranda removed her sandals and grinned up at him.

  “Aww, you’re just saying that. I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  “Only you, Miranda, only you.”

  Pulling her close, he brushed her lips with his, drawing the tender heat of her kiss into his mouth.

  He was conscious of every curve of her body as he held her next to him, felt the rush of passion to his loins and knew that it was time to part.

  Part or risk taking her there and now on the beach...

  “So tell me, love, when are you planning to return to San Francisco?”

  “End of the summer, late August sometime,” she supposed. “Why?”

  “Just wondering.” He breathed a sigh of relief, secure in the knowledge that he had her all to himself for at least the better part of two months.

  In that time, he knew that she would come to love him back.

  She had to.

  He would surely die if she didn’t...

  Miranda watched him closely, his rugged male features made softer by the sun, his dark grey eyes made warm by the light of its passage toward the west.

  Watched him and knew that it was time she risked everything.

  It was time to tell him what was in her heart and if he was man enough to bear that burden, perhaps the secret of what might be in her womb...

  “Brian,” she began, made courageous by the romance of the sunset. “What would you say if I told you that I was...”

  Her voice trailed off.

  She wasn’t brave enough.

  Not yet...

  And she didn’t know for certain, if she was pregnant or not.

  There was no point in upsetting him if it turned out to be a false alarm.

  “What is it, Miranda?” He asked, gazing at her intently.

  There was such a softness to her face, such a tenderness to her eyes, marked by the slightest bit of fear.

  Fear of what?

  Of him?

  He tried to assure her, “You have nothing to fear, love. You can tell me.”

>   She wished she had a shot of vodka to help her confession, help steady her nerves.

  She looked up into his smoldering grey eyes and knew that it was time.

  Time to tell him the main thing that caused conflict within her, if she could not yet find the courage to tell him the other…

  She stepped into his embrace and found courage in his strength.

  Found the strength that she herself needed to carry on.

  “Brian, I’m in love with you.”

  There.

  She had said it.

  If he rejects me, all is lost, she thought fiercely, though her hold on him was steadfast. If my hopes are crushed and thrown to this breeze so be it but at least I will have quit being a coward and...

  He stiffened in her arms and then pulled her away, trying to get a glance at her eyes to see the love in their depths that was so evident in her voice.

  “Look at me, Miranda,” he pleaded.

  She would not look.

  She didn’t dare.

  He lifted her chin with his thumb, forcing her to meet his gaze.

  He saw the first of many tears in her eyes and knew that it was his turn to confess his love now, else this perfect moment be lost forever.

  “Miranda, I have loved you from the moment I first laid eyes on you, through the lens of my camera.”

  Well, it didn’t come out exactly pretty and perfect but it’s finally said, he thought. And that’s what matters…

  “You, you love me?” There was such weakness in her voice, such despair. Uncertainty. Were her ears deceiving her? Surely not...

  “Of course I love you!” He exclaimed. “Haven’t I made that blatantly obvious by now?”

  “All I’ve known is that I can arouse you...”

  “Quickest way to a man’s heart!”

  “Don’t tease me now, Brian,” she warned him, “Or so help me God, I’ll-”

  He didn’t let her finish, rather, he brought her so quickly to his chest and under his mouth that the wind was very nearly knocked out of her.

  All she knew then was his kiss, his love, as endearments fell from his lips.

  “Oh Miranda, my love.”

  When finally they parted, it was with passion in their eyes.

  “Let’s go home, Brian.”

  “Home.” Home was with her, wherever she was.

  He knew this now and felt as though his heart would burst with the intensity of this newfound truth and of his feelings for her.