by Ava Miles
“Warm?” he asked, reaching behind his seat.
She looked back and watched him pop open the Grizzly cooler, one that kept ice intact up to ten days. When he turned back to her, he held out a piece of ice. His brown eyes darkened as she took it, and she could sense the memories between them. In times past, he’d have run the ice cube down her cleavage and then up her neck—a deliciously cool caress. Water would pool in places he’d talk about touching later, and she’d lean back in her seat, fantasizing about their love play while he drove.
She put the ice in her mouth and looked away, crunching it. Making love with him would be such a bad idea.
Or was it? Maybe they could have sex, and it could just be sex.
Oh, it was tempting, but she knew in her heart it wouldn’t work. Not for either of them. She kicked the dashboard.
“Thank you for the ice,” she said.
“You’re welcome, Doc.” He flashed her a cheeky smile. “Let’s find you a baby elephant, shall we?”
He picked up the radio to convey the message to Joseph.
“Are you seriously diverting our travel to find me a baby elephant?” she asked him, holding on to the dash when they hit a bigger than normal rut.
Her uncle grunted, but her aunt emitted a delighted squeak like a little child might.
“Yes, I am,” he answered, reaching out quickly to caress her hand. “I know they make you happy, Mickey.”
“I don’t need or want you to make me happy,” she said, clutching her seat belt instead. “Dammit, Boyd!”
“Too bad, Mickey, because that’s how it’s going to be. We’re making good time, don’t worry.”
“You still haven’t told me where we’re going, which really pisses me off.” Better to get angry than lusty. She spied the horizon. They were heading northeast through the savannah, if her internal compass was correct, and while she had some ideas about their ultimate destination, one could never be certain with Boyd.
“All in due time, Doc. Sit back and enjoy the ride until I find you a baby elephant. Then you can get all mushy.”
She crossed her arms and shifted her gaze back to the golden, swaying grasslands, catching sight of an ostrich running at top speed, its tall, spindly legs almost humorous given its portly, brown-breasted body. They came across a lion sunning itself, and Boyd made everyone laugh—even her—by singing “Can you feel the love tonight,” prompting Aunt Clara to join in.
An hour later, Joseph contacted Boyd over the radio to report an elephant sighting. Part of her wanted to tell him to keep driving, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it, and Boyd followed Joseph’s Rover to the east. When they caught sight of the herd grazing in the distance with a single acacia tree for company, its branches spanning out like a giant umbrella, she scanned the herd eagerly, searching for a baby elephant. She finally spotted the little fella with his trunk wrapped around his mama’s tail. Although it annoyed her that Boyd knew her so well, her heart melted a little, like the Sahara sun had softened the red hots her uncle always kept in his pocket.
“Do you see the baby?” she called out over her shoulder. “It’s the sixth elephant over from the left. He’s hiding a little behind his mama’s hind legs.”
“We’ll see how close the bull will let us come,” Boyd called back. “If they puff out their ears, we’ll need to retreat.”
The herd was already watching them approach, and Joseph wisely slowed down the closer they came. The bull walked forward, putting the rest of the herd behind him. Their cavalcade came to a stop, and everyone let their cars idle.
“Be real quiet now,” Boyd said. “Give him time to see we aren’t a threat.”
If the elephant charged, Boyd would back up straight away, but they’d done this before, any number of times, and no bull had ever charged them.
“I don’t know if you’re aware, but elephants are matriarchal. The oldest female, in the center of the herd, is the leader,” Michaela said in a lowered voice. “Most of the elephants are her daughters and their offspring.”
“Not the bull, eh?” her uncle whispered, turned in his seat to watch the show. “I didn’t know that.”
“An evolved species, then,” her aunt said. “The baby is adorable. I understand why you go all mushy at the sight of them, Michaela. My heart seems to have split wide open.”
Its floppy gray ears were adorable, and the crook of its dark mouth looked like a permanent grin. The baby’s intelligent black eyes met hers, and the air seemed to whoosh out of her lungs. Oh, elephants were special and then some. They’d fascinated her ever since she’d seen her first one at the zoo when she was four years old. That fascination had only grown when she’d learned about the fact that they had graveyards and grieved their fallen. Only two other animals grieved at such a level: magpies and chimpanzees.
Her uncle chuckled softly. “That strip of fur on top of his head makes him look like Mr. T.”
“Oh, Arthur, how unromantic,” her aunt said.
“Remember those two calves we watched play in the mud in the river, Mickey?” Boyd asked. “That slide they made with a tree branch was ingenious.”
The baby leaned his head against his mother’s leg again. “They were coated in mud by the end. One of their moms came over and sprayed them with water to wash them off. It was like she was saying, all right, playtime is over. Let’s clean you boys up.”
The baby moved under the mama’s belly, nuzzling.
“Did you know a baby elephant can drink up to twenty pints of milk a day?” Michaela asked in an undertone.
“That’s three gallons,” Hargreaves said, his voice laced with awe. “Gracious.”
“They breastfeed for about two years,” Boyd chimed in. “Those lucky devils.”
“You’re disgusting, like usual,” Michaela told him.
“I’m a man who likes boobs and is also a scientist,” Boyd countered. “Judge me not.”
Arthur chuckled. “I’m a leg man myself, but lately I’m finding I like boobs and—”
“Enough,” her aunt said. “You’re ruining my reverie.”
Her uncle and Boyd chuckled for a moment, then everyone fell silent.
One of the elephants nudged another, and they started playing. A third elephant joined in, and Michaela knew they were in for a show. A few of the others continued to graze, but one by one, they joined in the fun. Nudging each other. Trumpeting. Twining trunks and swinging them. Michaela started laughing when the baby gave up nursing and trotted over, looking to play as well. One of the older elephants quickly engaged the baby by nudging it in the rump, which made it topple to the ground. It immediately rose to its feet, giving a loud squeak, and trotted back looking for more fun.
They watched the herd for over twenty minutes, but finally Michaela knew she needed to urge Boyd to move on. When she looked over to speak to him, she discovered he was watching her. The soft light of love filled his gaze, something she recognized from their time together.
“Happy?” he whispered for only her ears.
Her throat clogged up like an old well. “Yes, but we should get going.”
“I suppose,” he said, reaching out and touching one of the wild, wind-blown curls by her ear. “I’ve always loved seeing you like this. Thank you for letting me… Never mind. All right, everyone.” His voice was louder. “We’re going to get going. Take one last look.”
Her aunt had said she didn’t want to take too many pictures because she didn’t want to view this trip from behind a camera. But she pulled out her digital camera quickly and shot a few pictures. Michaela watched as Hargreaves did the same.
“You look happy, niece,” her uncle said, giving her a wink. “I guess Boyd gets a red hot today. Here, sonny.”
Boyd reached a hand into the back seat and groaned when the melting candy plopped into his hand. “Thank you, Arthur. I will always treasure this moment.”
Uncle Arthur laughed. “Good to know. Let’s make tracks, folks. My old bones can’t take much more tra
veling.”
“You’re fine,” Aunt Clara said, stowing her camera under her seat. “Thank you, Boyd. I know we haven’t come for sightseeing, but I’ll never forget this moment.”
“Hear, hear,” Hargreaves said.
Boyd put the car in gear, and as he started to back up, the baby elephant lifted its head and started to trot toward them. Michaela covered Boyd’s hand on the stick shift. He stilled completely. “Stop. I think he’s—”
“Coming this way,” her aunt breathed out, extending her hand to him.
“Clara, put your hand back in,” her uncle said.
“Shh,” Michaela said, her gaze tracking to both the bull and the mother, who hadn’t moved a muscle but stood watching. “This is unusual. Let’s see what happens.”
Ears flopping, the baby continued trotting toward them with its big feet, its trunk leading the way. Its eyes seemed to hold a playful glint.
“It isn’t scared,” Hargreaves whispered. “My God.”
“Be quiet everyone,” Boyd said. “We don’t want to spook any of them. Clara, make sure your hands are in the vehicle.”
When it reached them, the baby stopped right beside the Land Rover, its trunk reaching for Aunt Clara. Michaela turned slowly to watch as it caressed her aunt’s face, tickling her playfully under the neck, making her laugh.
“Laughter is okay, Aunt,” she told her, watching in complete awe.
The elephant tipped her hat up, causing it to fall into her lap. “Oh, you precious thing,” Aunt Clara said. “Why, you’re a sweetheart.”
The baby caressed her aunt’s cheek and then stepped back. Those brilliant, sensitive eyes were trained on her aunt, or so it seemed, but it turned its head to look directly at Michaela. Her breath stopped and chills raced over her body. The intelligence in those dark eyes was palpable, and she felt like it was looking into her very soul. The moment seemed to stretch on for eternity, but before she could even gasp, the baby elephant turned around and lumbered back to the herd, racing across the grasslands as fast as its little legs could carry it.
Michaela slumped in her seat. “That was…”
“One of the most incredible experiences of my life,” her aunt breathed out. “When it looked at me, I felt like it knew me somehow. I can’t explain it.”
“I broke out into gooseflesh all over,” Hargreaves said, his hand over his chest.
“Too much information,” her uncle muttered.
“Oh, do give us a moment to marvel, Arthur,” her aunt said, grabbing the back of Michaela’s seat. “Did you feel it, Michaela? The knowing in its eyes?”
“Yes,” she said simply. She knew exactly what Aunt Clara meant. The wisdom in the calf’s eyes had shocked her.
“Well, that was a first,” Boyd said. “Whew! Clara, you must be a good luck charm when it comes to elephants.”
“What a wonderful thought,” she said, grinning. “Oh, I’m so happy I came. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank us yet since we have a ways to go, but you’re right. That’s a memory to treasure. In all my time in the field, I’ve never seen anything like it. Right, Mickey?”
When she turned to gaze at him, she realized her hand still covered his on the stick shift. It was like they were holding hands. She lifted it off quickly and pressed it to her stomach. “There was something…”
She looked away, searching for the baby elephant. The herd was moving on, and the baby had resumed its position behind its mama, its trunk wrapped around her tail. “We should go.”
“Leaving shouldn’t make you sad,” Boyd said, making her look back at him. “Do you want me to follow the herd for a while?”
He’d do it if she asked—she knew that with all her being, and her heart shuddered at the knowledge. “No, let’s head to…wherever we’re going tonight.”
As they left the herd behind, Michaela fought the urge to cry. Boyd had always been attentive to increasing her happiness, and early on, it was one of the reasons she’d thought they might be forever.
Her body already longed for him, and now her heart had joined the chorus. She feared her mind would come next, and then she’d have to face the decision she’d most feared before coming on this trip.
Would she, could she take him back? And how much of a mistake would it be this time?
Chapter 8
Boyd hadn’t expected Michaela’s family to take to safari so, and after today, he knew it was less likely they’d stay behind. The insanely intense moment with the baby elephant only seemed to make them more eager to stay the course.
Arthur had even helped Simon set up the Hales’ tent, saying it was never too late for an old dog like him to learn new tricks. Of course, Simon had protested about him being an elder and all, which had only made the man harrumph. That man could harrumph like no one Boyd had ever met. One had to admire him. Clara was clearly made of the same mettle, and Hargreaves and Jaali were laughing softly in the mess tent making the dinner. Together. Under any other circumstance, Boyd would have been grateful for the harmony of the camp.
He only hoped they could withstand the next leg of the journey. Since he didn’t exactly know what that would look like, his stomach felt a little queasy at the thought of bringing them along.
At least Iggie was probably out of the picture. Michaela had checked in with her brother again, and apparently Connor had made no headway in getting him cleared through Customs. At this point, Boyd imagined the delay had as much to do with Iggie’s temperament as it did the bribe. Once Sironka arrived to take them to the village, it would be hard, maybe even impossible, for an inexperienced traveler to follow them.
Michaela didn’t seem to mind much, thankfully. She was in her tent, singing to herself as she washed up from the day. A good omen, since she always sang when she was happy. He withdrew the flowers from one of the coolers and arranged them in a vase on the table in preparation for dinner. Wood was crackling in the fire Simon had made. The distant sounds of a gnu grunting and the hair-raising call of a hyena punctuated the soft rush of the wind over the grasses.
“Flowers again, Boyd?” Michaela asked, coming out of her tent in a black cardigan sweater and white harem pants, a practical choice given the protection they provided from mosquitos and other insects capable of flying or crawling up pant legs. Boyd tucked his pants into boots for that very reason.
His gaze traveled to her breasts. No bra tonight. He wondered if that meant anything, but he wasn’t fool enough to ask. Rather, he plucked a yellow Cape daisy from the vase and handed it to her. Truly, he wanted to tuck it behind her ear and kiss her, but she would probably kick his shins for that. “Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman.”
She took the flower. “Thank you, Boyd. Not just for this, but for earlier. I know you went out of our way to show us those elephants.”
“Not much, and it was worth it,” he said, loving the way she was watching him. The wariness had vanished, at least temporarily, from her green cat eyes. He felt like he’d climbed Kilimanjaro and checked it off his bucket list. Had the baby elephant turned the tide?
“As Time Goes By” started to play, and Michaela’s eyes narrowed.
Dammit, he wished Joseph hadn’t chosen that exact moment to turn on the music. He’d probably thought he was helping. Sure enough, when Boyd looked over his shoulder, the man was grinning at them. Boyd waved a hand in his direction and turned back to Michaela.
“You aren’t seriously going to play the entire Sleepless in Seattle soundtrack for dinner, are you?” She tucked the daisy behind her ear, her mouth twitching. “That’s desperate, even for you.”
He held out his hand to her. “You’re right. I am desperate. Desperate to have you back. Will you dance with me, Mickey?”
“If she doesn’t,” a rough-as-sandpaper voice said behind them, “will you resort to asking me or Clara?”
Michaela laughed, turning away from him and hastening over to her aunt and uncle, who’d emerged from their tent glowing.
Another nap?
God, they’d found the fountain of youth. He wondered if they knew they were beating the statistics on human sexuality. Professors would vie to study these two and write about them in an academic journal.
“I’ll dance with you, Uncle,” Michaela said, grabbing his hand and ruining Boyd’s plan.
“At least it’s a tune I recognize,” her uncle said. “Good ol’ Jimmy Durante. He knew how to croon back in the day.”
Clara crossed to Boyd and extended an elegant hand to him. “I guess that leaves you and me, Boyd. Unless you can’t handle a woman like me?”
Arthur barked out a laugh. “I can barely handle you, my dear.”
“You handled me fine just before we left our tent, dear,” she said with a pointed look at her husband before turning back to Boyd. “I’d like to say it’s all this fresh air and the wild animals, but truthfully, Boyd, we’re always like this. Thank God.”
“I was just thinking you two are a wonder,” he said, pulling her in close and leading her into a turn.
She danced with as much gusto as she did everything else in life, and they quickly found a rhythm.
“You dance very well, Boyd,” Clara said, pulling his eyes away from Michaela resting her head on her uncle’s shoulder. They looked sweet together.
“Thank you, Clara, as do you. That’s no surprise though. I’ve found most people in your generation are exceptional dancers. I learned a long time ago that if I wanted to dance at a wedding, I’d do better to ask the older women on the guest list. A friend’s great aunt taught me the waltz when I was nineteen after the bride and groom cut the cake. I caught the old-school dance bug then and there.”