“I told you to take off all your clothes.”
“What difference does it make?”
“You can’t keep anything that came from the outside world. Except maybe that chain and medallion around your neck. Is that solid gold?”
“Twenty-four karat.” He resisted the urge to reach up and touch the medallion that held Franklin’s feather. It was twisted around so all that showed was the solid gold back. That resin-encased feather was worth more to Jonathan than a mountain of gold. The only way anyone was taking it, was out of his cold, dead fist. “Why can’t I wear my own clothes?”
“They’re not allowed.”
“I could wash them in the hot springs.”
“That’s not the problem.”
“Then what is?”
“You leave everything behind when you join us. It’s like being reborn.”
“I’m not joining you.” Jonathan cupped his hand over the front of his boxers to hide the effect River’s naked body was having on his.
She wrinkled her nose and snarled at him. “Stop playing with yourself. What are you? A toddler?”
“I’m not playing with myself! And I’m certainly not a toddler. I’m a man. And seeing a woman’s naked body does things to a man.”
River rolled her eyes. “You need to control yourself. I already told you I don’t want to mate with you.”
“Where I come from, people don’t prance around in the nude if they don’t want to mate.”
“Well, that’s inconvenient.”
Jonathan kept himself covered with his hand and pointed at her with his stump. “I’m going to go put my underwear in the box with the rest of my clothes. When I return you better be dressed.”
Jonathan grumbled under his breath as he ran all the way back to the first hut. By the time he got there, his skin was blue. He threw his boxers in Reuben’s trunk with the rest of his clothes then plunged into the hot spring to warm up before making the trek back to the quarantine cabin.
He opened the door and found River in a short, white nightgown that barely covered her ass. She’d also re-braided her hair. It hung down her back, six inches past her waist, in a thick damp rope. She still looked sexy as hell, but at least she wasn’t naked.
A tea kettle on top of the old-fashioned wood burning stove whistled. River moved it to a sturdy pine table and set it down. She waved towards the six cedar boxes stacked up against the wall without looking at Jonathan. “See if you can find something that fits you in Eli’s trunk.”
The quarantine cabin was three times as big as the first shack, but it still felt crowded. Three bunk beds, jammed head to foot on the opposite wall took up half the floor space.
Jonathan opened Eli’s trunk and peered inside. “Are you sure this guy won’t care if I borrow his clothes?”
“Hopefully, you’ll be long gone before he finds out.”
Not quite the answer Jonathan was hoping for. But what choice did he have? He dug all the way to the bottom of the wooden chest, looking for something that resembled boxers or even long johns. “Where’s the underwear?”
River snorted. “We don’t use underwear.”
Jonathan looked at the well-worn buckskin pants and groaned. “Oh, man, that’s disgusting.”
“Everything’s been purified.”
“How?” Jonathan glanced over his shoulder to be sure River still had her back turned. “You can’t toss any sort of leather in a washing machine and I’m willing to bet this stuff’s never been dry cleaned.”
“Our smoke sheds are dry.” River turned around and scowled at him.
“Do you mind?” Jonathan covered himself with the wadded up pants.
River rolled her eyes, again, before turning her back.
“If you don’t quit rolling your eyes, they’re going to get stuck in the back of your head.” Jonathan lifted the buckskin pants to his face and took a wary sniff. They smelled like leather, wood smoke and cedar. People had used smoke to cure meat for centuries. Would that be enough to cure any nasties on Eli’s clothes? You couldn’t get AIDS or herpes from wearing someone else’s clothes, but what about crabs? He could either wear what River gave him, or go naked.
Jonathan gritted his teeth and slid into Eli’s pants. They were a little tight around his thighs and calves, but other than that, they fit like a second skin. There was just one problem. Instead of a fly with buttons or a zipper, the front of the pants laced up over a flap of leather with a rawhide string. Tying his shoes was one of the first things Jonathan had learned in occupational therapy, but it was still going to take him awhile to get it done without his prosthesis.
“Do you need any help?”
Jonathan glanced over his shoulder.
River stood behind him, arms folded across her chest.
How long had the little perv been watching him? “Aren’t you scared I’ll contaminate you?”
“You’re clean now. Except for any airborne illnesses.” River closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “And it’s too late to worry about that now. I’ve already breathed your air.”
“And I already told you. I’m not sick.” Jonathan unfolded the shirt. It looked just like River’s old-fashioned nightgown, only shorter. The round neck cinched up with a drawstring cord. Great. More strings to tie.
The shirt started itching the minute he put it on. “What is this? Wool?”
“It’s goat hair.”
“Goat hair?” Jonathan bunched up the fabric in his fist and held it away from his chest.
River scowled at him. “What’s your problem?”
“It itches.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
Jonathan seriously doubted it, but he wasn’t going to hang out long enough to find out. As soon as the weather cleared, he was outta there.
“Put this on.” River handed him a thick leather vest that also laced up the front. Jonathan wasn’t sure what purpose the vest served until he put it on. It held the excess fabric of the shirt against his body and out of his way, creating a layer of insulation. If he’d been wearing this get-up during the hike from hell, he wouldn’t have gotten so cold.
“Here, try these.” River handed him a pair of fur-lined boots with, of course, more laces. Jonathan was surprised to find a pair of socks stuffed into the toes. “How come I get socks but no underwear?”
“Socks serve a purpose. They keep your feet dry so your toes don’t freeze off.”
“As much as I like my toes, I’d rather protect the parts of my body that would be covered by underwear.”
River made a broth out of jerky she found in a cupboard. Jonathan would have rather just eaten the jerky—there seemed to be plenty of it—but he didn’t want to seem ungrateful.
As soon as it got too dark to see, they went to bed. Jonathan couldn’t get comfortable on the lumpy straw mattress that smelled like a wet dog. His borrowed pants kept getting twisted every time he rolled over. His upper body was still itchy, even after removing the goat hair shirt. And River was sleeping naked.
When Jonathan woke up the next morning, his bladder screamed for relief. River was already up, and from the looks of her, she hadn’t slept very well either. “Hey, kid, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She didn’t sound fine, but she obviously didn’t want to talk about it. Was she still worried about getting sick?
“Um…is there an outhouse or something?”
River shook her head. “There’s a chamber pot in that closet.”
There was no way he was using a chamber pot. Not for taking a leak—actually, not for anything. He’d dig a latrine with a stick if he had to. “Any objections to using a tree?”
“Piss off the edge of the porch. Just be sure the wind’s at your back.”
“How stupid do you think I am?”
“Well…” She dragged the word out and arched an eyebrow. “You are going outside to piss in a blizzard.”
The wind nearly tore the door out of Jonathan’s hand when he opened it. He wrapped
his left arm around the porch post to keep from getting blown over. It was a good thing he decided to come with River instead of trying to make it on his own. There was no way he would have survived this storm. It was a total whiteout. Zero visibility. The wind chill factor had to be at least fifty below. The chamber pot might not be such a bad idea.
Jonathan made sure his junk was covered then hurried back inside to retie his pants.
River squatted in front of the stove then poked at the fire with her back to Jonathan. “Were you dreaming about your mate last night?”
“Mate?” He shrugged out of Eli’s snow-covered parka and hung it on a hook by the stove. “You mean like a wife?”
River nodded but kept her face and shoulders turned away from Jonathan.
“I’m not married. Not even close.” Carrie changed the status of her Facebook page to ‘single’ three months after Jonathan deployed. She’d visited him once at the VA hospital in Denver during his recovery, but she’d brought her new boyfriend along for the ride.
“Then who’s Frankie?”
A fist of pain squeezed Jonathan’s heart.
River didn’t give him a chance to answer. “You called out her name several times last night.”
“Franklin was my brother, my twin.”
She shut the stove door and turned around. “Was?”
Jonathan took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He hated saying it out loud. Hated the finality of it, the shocked reactions, the pity, the gut-wrenching agony of remembering. “He died.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Sweat beaded across Jonathan’s brow. Please, just let it go.
“How long has it been since you lost him?”
“I didn’t lose him!” Jonathan had a hard time reacting appropriately when anyone spoke of Franklin’s death as a ‘loss.’ As if he’d misplaced his brother. Gone off and left him at the mall or something. “He was blown to bits when we hit a roadside bomb in Afghanistan.”
PROPHECIES
JONATHAN’S OUTBURST STARTLED RIVER, BUT she understood his reaction. She remembered how hard it’d been after Mother’s execution. Every condolence, no matter how sincere, triggered one of two reactions; blinding rage or overwhelming grief. It was easier to just avoid everyone. If Reuben hadn’t given her Sugar to raise and train, River would have gone crazy. The orphaned filly gave her something to focus on other than her own pain.
Jonathan rubbed his forehead. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. Please, don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying.” River blinked. “I was just thinking about my mother.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
No, River didn’t want to talk about it, but she had pried the information about his dead brother out of Jonathan. The least she could do was tell him about Mother. “She died.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s been five years and I still miss her so much.”
Jonathan crossed the room in three strides and wrapped his arms around River. “Is this okay?”
She buried her face in his shoulder and nodded.
Jonathan held her head in place with his mutilated wrist and rubbed her back with his hand.
River hadn’t been hugged since the day Reuben rejected her and Gabriel offered to mate with her. Eli started courting her a week after Hannah left, but they’d only held hands and even that felt awkward. But this? This warmed her heart as well as her body. And Jonathan smelled good…not just clean. His masculine scent was subtle, but enticing. River closed her eyes and inhaled. Her nose grazed the side of his neck.
Jonathan froze. “This isn’t against the rules, is it?”
“It’s fine.” Eli hadn’t officially applied for a courtship contract, so letting Jonathan hold her wasn’t illegal, just ill-advised.
He gave her a gentle squeeze then let go and stepped back. “So, what are the rules about this sort of thing?”
River sat on the edge of her bed. “We may embrace each other, as long as we’re both dressed and neither of us are aroused.”
A pink flush spread across Jonathan’s cheeks as he grinned at her, displaying his dimples. “So far, so good. What about kissing and stuff?”
“Stuff?”
“You know, making out?”
River wasn’t familiar with the phrase, but she could guess what Jonathan was hinting at. “We aren’t allowed to do anything that might activate the mating instinct until after we merge with our spirit guides.” River gasped then pressed her fingers over her mouth.
Jonathan knelt in front of her and tugged her hand away from her face. He interlaced his fingers through hers. “Are you involved with a cult? Do you need help getting out?”
“No!” River yanked her hand out of Jonathan’s and rubbed her sweaty palms on her thighs. She had to convince him not to tell anyone about New Eden, but do it without revealing any more secrets. “My people just want to be left alone. We want to live our lives without outside interference. We aren’t hurting anyone.”
Jonathan placed his hand over hers. His cool, dry palm covered her hand completely. His sky blue eyes captured her gaze and held it. “Then why are you so frightened?”
River stood up, dislodging Jonathan’s hand. “I need to go chop more firewood.”
Jonathan moved from his knees to his feet with the grace and balance of a cougar. “I can swing an ax.”
“I need to clear my head. Alone.” River bolted out the door without giving him a chance to argue.
As soon as River stepped outside, she smelled burning wood. The north wind snatched the smoke from the quarantine cabin’s chimney too quickly for that to be the source. She couldn’t see the other end of the porch in this weather, much less the cleansing huts, but there was no doubt in her mind that someone was there.
She ran back inside the cabin, slammed the door and pressed her back against it—as if she could keep trouble from finding them.
“That was fast.” Jonathan quirked his mouth into a lopsided grin. “Where’s the wood?”
“We have a problem.”
Jonathan’s eyebrows shot up. “What kind of problem?”
“Enforcers.”
His body tensed, bunching his muscles. “What are enforcers?”
“They guard and protect us.”
“Let me guess, they’re going to see me as some sort of threat?”
River nodded. “Unless I can convince them that you’re my recruit.”
“I should just leave.” He lifted Eli’s parka off the hook and slung it over his shoulders.
“You’ll never survive.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
River pressed her fingers against her temples. “When they find your body, they’ll know that I brought you here. I’ll be punished.”
“Okay.” Jonathan took a deep breath then exhaled with an audible rush of air. “How do we convince them I’m your recruit?”
“You need to be unhappy with the outside world. You’re opposed to modern industry, pollution and the greed of western civilization. You need to be disillusioned and angry.”
Jonathan’s eyes shifted back and forth as he gazed at her. “I can do that.”
River chewed her thumbnail as she paced the length of the cabin. “We don’t recruit people with family ties. You have to convince them that you’re an orphan or that you’re so estranged from your family that they won’t bother to search for you.”
“Some wacko environmental terrorist bombed my family’s gold mine about two years ago. It made the national news. I could claim I did it to protest my family’s disregard for the environment. That will strengthen my tree-hugger image and make me an outcast.”
“But if that happened two years ago, you’ll need to explain why you waited so long to leave.”
“How about…I had to go to prison for bombing the mine and just now got out?”
River stopped pacing and smiled. “That’s very clever. Stick to the truth about how we met. The fact that you fought a coug
ar to save my life proves you’re strong and courageous and gives me a reason to recruit you.”
“Anything else? What should I know about your cult?”
“Don’t call it a cult.” River spoke through gritted teeth then sighed. “You don’t need to know anything about our society. Recruits aren’t told much the first few weeks.”
“Okay, then. When do we go meet these enforcers?”
“You aren’t going anywhere. Enforcers tend to shoot first and ask questions later. When the blizzard’s over, I’ll go tell them I’ve recruited you.”
River didn’t have to leave the quarantine cabin after all. Four hours after first smelling smoke, the door burst open. The enforcer’s hooded parka obscured his face. River didn’t recognize him until he shoved it off his head. Eli.
He pointed at Jonathan. “Who the hell is that?”
River moved to step in front of Jonathan but he grabbed her arm and shoved her behind him, using his body to protect hers. If Jonathan weren’t an outsider, River would have sworn he was an alpha. She leaned around him and locked gazes with Eli. “Jonathan is my recruit.”
“Recruit?”
“That’s what I said. Are you deaf?”
Eli’s nostrils flared. “Where did you find a recruit? You aren’t allowed outside our borders.”
“He was wandering around in the buffer zone.”
Eli took off his parka then turned his attention to Jonathan. “What’s your story?”
Jonathan glanced at River then recited everything just the way they’d rehearsed it. It seemed to be going fine, until he got to the part about setting off a bomb in the mine.
Eli whipped his hunting knife out of his boot and lunged at Jonathan.
River gulped a lungful of air, but before she could shout a warning, Jonathan grabbed Eli’s wrist, twisted his arm around, and pressed the knife against Eli’s throat. The knife was still in Eli’s hand, but Jonathan had control of it.
“Drop it or die, asshat.”
The knife clattered to the floor. Jonathan had Eli’s arm twisted in such a way that it wouldn’t take much to break it.
Believe: The Complete Channie Series Page 115