Indian Moon

Home > Other > Indian Moon > Page 17
Indian Moon Page 17

by Carolyn McCray


  Quinton had grown hearing about the daring rebellion and had held Bent Arrow in both awe and fear. The old man had been beaten, but it was always said that his heart was pure. An Indian to be proud of. A role model for all the younger generation. It was strange to hear that Bent Arrow was a man like any other.

  “At least, Quinn, you have realized while there is still much life to be lived. Do not forget that.” With that said, Bent Arrow closed his eyes and began humming an ancient tune.

  Luckily, there could be no more conversation once Bent Arrow began his deep meditation. For that Quinton was glad. The old man had given Quinton far too much to think about.

  The smoke and melody whispered in his ear that the past was gone and only the future mattered. Bent Arrow was right. There was much life still to be lived. Quinton had gotten bogged down in the details of his ordeal and forgot that one simple fact. It might not be easy or necessarily a great life to begin with, but it was life. The possibilities he had felt as a young man were still out there, Quinton had just forgotten where he had put them.

  Quinton knew there was no way he could outlast Bent Arrow and speak with him again before the meeting. Skin stinging and his eyes throbbing, Quintin knew he needed to leave. One day perhaps he could condition himself for such an endurance, but not today.

  Rising on his complaining legs, Quinton crossed to the door. In the changing room, the difference of temperature was startling. It felt downright cold even though Quinton knew the room was still over ninety degrees. He also knew that the pool of water that was available to rinse off with came straight down from the Cascades and would be ice cold.

  Bracing himself, Quinton splashed the chilly water over his head and body. The water was as cold as he remembered. Quinton could practically hear his pores slamming shut. His whole body was jolted by the power of the two temperature extremes. This is what it felt like to be alive. Quinton had almost forgotten. Quickly toweling off, he re-dressed and headed out the door.

  To his surprise, the sun was nearly gone from the sky. He did not realize how long he had been inside the longhouse. Hurricane was still playing with the boy, only there were several other children joined in the game. Quinton smiled. He could remember when he grandfather had come to the longhouse and left him outside to play with the rest of the boys.

  Despite the dog’s obvious fatigue, Hurricane was dragging a little girl around the field with a stick. Quinton could take a few pointers from the Labrador about endurance and perseverance. Whistling to Hurricane, Quinton also got the attention of the children.

  One of the boys ran up to Quinton. “Black Feather said you left this at the pot-latch last night.”

  Quinton did not immediately take the blanket. It reminded him too much of last night’s pain. But the boy just kind of shoved it at him before running off to re-join the game. Much of his hard-earned peace of mind evaporated as he fingered the coarse blanket. Regina had dropped it last night before they kissed. He had planned for them to make love on it. Even if Quinton did somehow salvage his professional life, he did not know if he could ever win back Regina. He knew from experience that some wounds were slow to heal.

  Looking to the west, Quinton gazed at the thick forest. The trees seemed to call to him. The desire to pray almost startled him. He had not had a conversation with God since Caitlyn had died. Oh, Quinton had rallied at God and cursed every deity that had ever been named, but he had not actually just sat down and poured out his fears, worries, and desires. Perhaps it was time that he did.

  The sacred circle of trees was not far off. The longhouse had been built on this site for that very reason. It was not uncommon after cleansing your body and mind that one would want to open one’s heart to the nature. Quinton walked over the soft grass and called Hurricane to his side. As they left the field and entered the forest, Quinton felt a twinge of concern for his poor feet. Were they up to this little hike?

  Luckily, the season was fall and the pine needles were damp and cushiony. They squished between his toes with every footfall. Hurricane panted heavily but kept up the pace, carrying a twig just in case Quinton had the urge to play fetch. Walking along the winding path with his dog, Quinton was filled with a feeling of peace. This is where he belonged. He had wandered far off the path, but it was good to feel it beneath his feet again.

  ***

  Regina checked the little map that Whispering Flower had drawn one more time. The old woman had drawn only sketchy landmarks, most of which Regina could not identify. Which house was the deeper green? They all looked about the same to her. Turning another corner, Regina spotted a landmark that not even she could miss. The post office had an American flag flapping in the breeze. Thank goodness Regina had found it since someone was taking the flag down for the evening. Without that sighting, Regina might have been driving around the reservation all night.

  After two more right turns, Regina found the lodgehouse. This, at least, was just as Whispering Flower had described. The building was low to the ground and looked like it had been hewn out of whole trees. The wood was natural and untreated. The bark peeled on the outside of the logs. Smoke snaked out of several chimneys. The place looked like it had been built centuries ago. Pulling her car alongside what Regina hoped was Whispering Flower’s truck, she turned off the car and waited.

  Whispering Flower had made it very clear that it simply was not allowed for Regina to even knock on the lodgehouse’s door. No woman was even to approach the building. It was a sacred place for men only. Regina originally had bristled at the blatant sexism, but Whispering Flower had only laughed at her. Women had their own secrets, the elder had explained. Why was it not alright for the men to indulge the men’s as well? Not having an answer for that question, Regina had not argued the point, but she was frustrated again. Now that she was resolved, she wanted to see Quinton right this second. An almost childish impatience gripped her. Every time the lodgehouse’s door opened, Regina vainly hoped that it was Quinton, but it was not.

  Feeling her stomach clench up, Regina got out of her car and walked around the parking area. Despite her best intentions, Regina found herself peeking into Whispering Flower’s truck. She did not know what she had hoped to find in there, but Regina could not help herself.

  “You looking for Quinn?” a young voice said from behind her.

  Embarrassed that she was caught spying, Regina’s voice shook a little. “Yes.”

  The boy did not seem concerned in the least though. “He went out thatta way.”

  Regina followed the boy’s finger to the forest’s edge. “Oh. Well I’ll just wait for him here.”

  “Why?” the child asked as only a child can.

  “Um, because...” Because she was flustered and embarrassed, but Regina did not say that since the kid would probably just ask her why again, and she certainly did not want to get into that. “I do not want to disturb him.”

  The boy shrugged. “The sacred circles not too far off. Usually we pray by twos, but your choice.”

  The child was off again to the game before Regina could respond. She looked down at her clothes and realized that she had not even changed out of her grungy housecleaning outfit. Her hands flew to her hair and tried to pat it back into place. Checking her pockets, Regina realized that she didn’t even have any lipstick on her. How could she meet Quinton when she was such a wreck? What had she been thinking at home?

  Regina stopped her little internal tirade and laughed. It was good to feel this way again. It was good to be more focused on how she looked than how badly she hurt. Besides, if Quinton really was the man she thought he might be, he wouldn’t care what she looked like. He would accept her for the discombobulated woman that she was. Still, she reached into her glove-box and brushed out her hair. There was accepting, and then there was bed-head.

  Looking at her self in the small mirror on the visor, Regina pinched her cheeks and made sure she did not have any of her dinner still stuck in her teeth. She did not need to be a fashion plate, but
neither did Regina want to excessively worry over her appearance. Satisfied that she was at least presentable, Regina closed the car door and headed out across the field. There was only one path into the forest, and Regina hoped it was the one that would lead her to Quinton.

  CHAPTER 11

  Quinton felt his body relax as his breathing slowed. He sat atop the blanket in the center of the sacred circle. Around him, the towering pines jutted up into the sky. The sun’s rays were blocked by the ring of trees, creating an early twilight. Only tiny blades of scattered light penetrated the thick forest.

  Within the circle lay a perfect bed of moss and wild grasses. This is where Quinton had hoped to bring Regina. It was where he had spent much of his youth staring up at the sky, trying to divine his future. If he had been told him twenty years ago the events that would unfold, Quinton would never have believed it. To finally come back here and stare up at the same stars and wonder the same thoughts was both soothing and unsettling. Would the future now unfold any kinder?

  There was a rustling in the brush, and Hurricane barked at an intruder. Quinton sprang to his feet, wary that it might be the police trying to track him down. He was still on reservation territory, but if Quinton was out-numbered, no amount of legal haggling would protect him from being hauled into jail.

  Suddenly, Hurricane’s tail began wagging like a propeller as he charged down the path. Despite his dog’s enthusiasm, Quinton followed more slowly. The dog charged back past Quinton towards the far side of the circle. Turning, Quinton bumped into the person arriving from the trail.

  “Regina?” he asked, too shocked to say anything else.

  The woman smiled shyly. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  “No. God, no. Please, here, have a seat.” Quinton knew that he sounded like a moron but did not care. She was here! Regina had sought him out. This did more for his spirit than either sweating or praying had.

  “No thanks. I’ll stand.” Regina seemed guarded, and Quinton could not tell if she was still enraged or simply uncomfortable. All he knew was that she would not meet his eye.

  “I guess you’ve heard what happened back in town?”

  “Yeah.” There was a long pause and then Regina finally spoke. “But that’s not why I’m here. I... I...”

  Unconsciously, Quinton reached out and took Regina’s hand. To his surprise, she smiled at him before speaking. “I came to apologize for not hearing you out last night. I was pretty upset, but that doesn’t excuse --”

  “Shh. You are not the one who needs to be apologizing. It’s me. I can’t tell you how sorry I am or how --”

  It was Regina’s turn to shush Quinton. The woman had brought his hand up to her mouth and tenderly kissed each finger. Quinton was paralyzed by shock. He did not even try to interrupt Regina when she finally spoke. “You made bad choices and now you are willing to pay for them. Right?”

  Quinton sighed. He did not realize what a relief it was to have Regina understand until he felt a tear stream down his cheek. Still, he was confused. How could Regina come to such an about face in such a short period of time? Quinton brushed aside the tear as he tried to answer lightly. “That about sums it up. But I have to ask.” Quinton stopped short. Did he really have to ask? Did he really want to know what had changed for Regina? Could he not just ride this wave of intimacy and figure it out later? Sadly, Quinton could not. He had risked too much and gone through too much these last few days to back down from the truth now. “What brought you here? Why aren’t you still livid with me?”

  Regina grinned that reserved, blushing smile of hers. “Your aunt has a way of putting things into perspective. She helped me realize you are nothing like Wayne.”

  “But I did negotiate that deal, and I did --”

  “You might have some actions similar to him, but for vastly different reasons. And you’ve asked for forgiveness which he never... he never would...” Regina could not finish her statement, as tears burst out.

  Quinton did not even think before he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Regina’s frame shook with sobs, and he could feel her tears soak through his shirt, but he did not care. Holding her until the pain subsided, Quinton gently stroked her back and kissed the top of her head. None of this was easy for either of them. Finally, the tears stopped, and Regina settled her cheek against his chest.

  “I don’t know what keeps coming over me. I didn’t want it to be like this.”

  “I wouldn’t have you any other way than how you feel like being,” Quinton said and meant every word of it. Whether Regina was laughing or crying, he wanted to be with her.

  For a long while, he just rocked her in place. The last of the sun’s rays faded from the sky, and the pale moon rose over the tree-line. They stood there in each other’s arms and reminded themselves what it felt like to be together. Hurricane had given up on them playing with him anytime soon and laid down at the edge of the forest. The night was perfectly silent except for the sound of the occasional cricket that had braved this crisp evening.

  Finally, Regina lifted her head and looked into his eyes. “What are you going to do about the Sheriff?”

  Quinton brushed back a few stray strands of hair as he answered. “I’m meeting with the Elders later tonight. After that, I’m not sure.”

  Regina nodded sadly and laid her head back down. Quinton stroked up and down her back, and she hugged him tightly. “Any other secrets I should know about?”

  Tensing, Quinton tried not to let it show. If he truly wanted to this woman to know everything about him, there was one last aspect of his past that she had to be aware of. “Yes.”

  Raising her head, Regina gave him a grim smile. “Shoot.”

  Without hesitation any further, Quinton spoke. “When I was younger, the charges that are being pressed would have been true, at least partially. I hung with a crowd that did monkey-wrench. I never participated, but I knew.”

  A look of concern crossed Regina’s face, but she did not pull away. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I thought it was the only way to get people’s attention. I was so driven back then. I couldn’t see a single tree cut down without feeling like something had to be done, no matter if that action was illegal.”

  “They didn’t have the right to damage other people’s equipment or jeopardize lives though.”

  Spoken like a true mother, Quinton thought. She was right. If he had a child, he would say the same thing. “I’m not proud of it anymore, but I have to be honest. I was proud to be associated with them back then.”

  “Would you do it again?”

  Quinton shook his head sincerely. “No. Besides the absolutely valid reasons you gave, those methods just doesn’t work. Companies buy more equipment and put up better security. I’ve learned the hard way that lawsuits are the only thing that faze these guys.”

  For a moment, Quinton forgot that he was talking about Regina’s family and friends. The woman seemed not to take it that way though. She simply nodded. “Wayne does hate lawyers with a passion. Even his own.”

  “You okay with this?” Quinton asked, surprised when Regina did not become upset.

  “Yeah. We all do stupid, awful, reckless things when we are young. I’m just glad you survived yours. Your life would have been tragically different if you’d gotten caught with them.”

  Quinton nodded in agreement. He did not want to think how different his life would be if he hadn’t eluded prosecution all those years ago. Regina must have read the concerned look on his face for she traced his lips with her finger.

  “Nothing else, right?”

  Parting his mouth slightly, Quinton kissed the tip of her finger before he answered. “Nothing except my not-so-well hidden desire to be with you.”

  The woman said nothing, but he felt her fingers tighten in his grasp. Regina did not back away as he leaned forward, closing the distance. He searched her face before touching his lips against hers. It was her tongue that sought out his first thi
s time. Her body pressed against him so that each breath he could feel her breasts against his shirt. There was no shyness in this kiss. Her lips spoke of hunger.

  Carried along by her rush of passion, Quinton’s hands felt down her back and caressed the outline of her hips and further down her outer thigh. Finally, he gently squeezed her behind and brought their hips together. Regina gasped as he rhythmically rocked his pelvis against hers. With her lips off his mouth, Quinton explored her earlobe with his tongue, then kissed his way down her neck. Goosebumps flowed in waves away from his touch. Regina moaned with each tender nip of his.

  Realizing that lust was getting the best of him, Quinton tried to slow the pace, but Regina would not let him. Her fingers were intertwined in his hair, urging him to explore more of her body. Quinton had the nearly overwhelming urge to start ripping her clothes off, but he shied away from such a bold act. While Regina seemed ready to take the next step, Quinton wanted to be sure. He did not want to ever see hurt in her eyes again over something that he had done.

  Pulling away, he whispered breathless. “Regina, I think we should slow down.”

  The woman’s voice was husky and urgent. “I don’t.”

  Before Quinton could argue, Regina picked up his hand and brought it to her chest. He could not help but gently fondle her breast. The woman moaned deeply and leaned her head back with pleasure, offering her neck to him again. Through her clothes, Quinton fingers found Regina’s nipple and began stroking the tightening aureolas. Regina urged Quinton’s head down her chest. With his other hand, Quinton unbuttoned the woman’s shirt.

  Exposing the lace on her bra, Quinton took a moment to appreciate the contrast between the stark black of the fabric and the creamy white of Regina’s skin. Her complexion was like porcelien, almost too fine to touch, but Regina’s fingers were insistent in his hair, tugging him towards her chest. Slowly, trying to enduce sensual torture, Quinton made his way down Regina’s breastbone. With each kiss, Regina shuddered underneath his touch. By the time he made it to her breast, Regina’s protruding nipple showed through her bra.

 

‹ Prev