by Janet Cooper
As she finished brushing her hair and prepared to leave the room, Sarah remembered Benjamin as he lay on his bed. Whatever happened, she must see the man she called father. Perhaps, if she did not stay overnight, she would be safe. Safe. How strange, only a short while ago, she had wanted nothing so much as to go back.
After stopping in the kitchen, she set off to visit Quick Rabbit. The answers to Sarah's questions would only be found at the tavern. She had no choice but to go there. Tonight, she must fulfill her promise to visit her other concern, Quick Rabbit.
When Sarah arrived at the village, the Lenape woman still sat on the stoop, yet her face appeared to have more color, more life. "I brought thee sweetened plums. Bowl Woman assured me thou enjoys them."
Sarah sat on the wooden step next to Quick Rabbit and pulled the wooden stopper from the jar. As she spooned the syrup and fruit, Sarah talked about the ambush, careful to leave out any reference to the British corporal
Quick Rabbit ate well and appeared interested in the story, but her eyes stared off in the distance. Still, her limited response pleased Sarah. "Tomorrow, I will visit my father. I am not sure when I shall return, but, if I get back before dark, I will come visit thee."
The Lenape woman looked at Sarah.
"Oh, Quick Rabbit! Thou is hearing and understanding me." Sarah wanted to drop the bowl and squeeze her, but hesitated. What would Quick Rabbit reaction be to someone hugging her? Could someone's arms surrounding her cause Quick Rabbit to relive the rape? Although the other Lenape women helped Quick Rabbit to stand and walk and relief herself, and Sarah had brushed Quick Rabbit's hair, encircling someone's body with thine arms called for trust. Did that exist between them? Sarah waited for an additional response.
Slowly, the Lenape woman inclined her head, as if nodding, and the action reminded Sarah of a rusted coil moving.
After placing the jar on the ground, Sarah eased her fingers over Quick Rabbit's hands. The woman remained still. Gently, Sarah squeezed. "Thou has survived much. I have never experienced what was forced upon thee, but I admire thy strength."
Moisture showed in Quick Rabbit's eyes, but no tears fell.
"How pleased I am that thou hears me. That thou understands what I have said." Sarah leaned back, but kept her hand on Quick Rabbit. "Thou is getting better."
The Lenape woman blinked her eyes, as if in agreement.
Keeping her fingers over Quick Rabbit's, Sarah said, "I am so happy."
Quick Rabbit closed her lids.
Sarah feared that she had lost contact. "Doeth thou want anything?"
"Long Knife." The quiet words sounded scratchy. A single tear slipped down the side of her face.
Covering both Quick Rabbit's hands with one of hers, Sarah wiped the moisture away with the tip of her thumb. What can I say? What should I say? Her heart faltered. She could never tell Quick Rabbit that her son had volunteered for the army. Unwilling to show her apprehension, Sarah said, "He is away, but we will send a message and have him return as quickly as possible."
Suddenly, fear filled Quick Rabbit's face.
"What is wrong?" What have I said? Sarah wondered, confused by the quick reversal.
The Lenape woman stared straight ahead, a blank expression covered the woman's face. A sense of frustration filled Sarah. She has slipped away from me.
Trying to recapture their earlier moments together, Sarah asked, "Is there anything else? Food, a blanket, anything?" She hoped for a response.
No change registered on Quick Rabbit's face.
Unable to do more tonight, Sarah gathered the dishes and said, "I will be back tomorrow, if I can. I will ask Wolf to send someone to find thy son. It may take a little time, so don't worry. He will come."
She received no response. Had Quick Rabbit heard her?
As Sarah prepared to go, she tried to reassure the quiet, somber woman. "He will come."
Quick Rabbit remained still and mute.
With a heavy heart, Sarah stepped away. Quick Rabbit appeared not to notice. If anything, she appeared even more remote
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
With an uneasy heart, Sarah headed toward the farmhouse. She'd had such hope when Quick Rabbit had spoken, yet only moments afterwards the woman appeared to retreat into her suit of armor. Had Sarah expected too much or had the temporary break been a normal part of Quick Rabbit's mental problem. Oh, how Sarah wished she had some expertise to draw on. Well, no matter why something had happened, she would continue to keep trying. Before she reached the barnyard, strong arms gently encircled her from behind. "Wolf!" The fresh smell of pine soap had given him away.
He nuzzled the side of her neck.
She shivered with pleasure at his touch. Although she wanted to stay lock securely in his arms, her meeting with Quick Rabbit competed with her personal desire. "I have news."
Whirling her around, he stared deeply into her eyes. She beheld a look on his starkly handsome face that she had never seen before. Passion and desire showed, but another emotion, one she had not perceived before, overlaid them. Her heart beat hard, and a blanket of warmth covered her. Is he beginning to feel what I have only recently acknowledged? Did he love her as she loved him? Is that what had caused this softer countenance? She sincerely hoped so.
"What is your news?" He kept his arms securely around her waist.
The sense of confusion she had experienced when she left Quick Rabbit returned. She touched the side of Wolf's jaw, needing his strength. Briefly, he nuzzled her hand against the side of his shoulder. "Quick Rabbit blinked her eyes." His own mirrored the pleasure Sarah experienced. "When I asked her if she wished anything she mumbled, 'Long Knife'."
"That is wonderful!" His countenance sparkled with pleasure.
"At first, I thought so, too." Sarah searched his face, noting his strong, handsome air. His silence encouraged her. "When I told her he was not here, her face went blank. Nothing I said afterwards changed the frigid-like expression."
"You have made the first contact. I'm sure she will improve." He spoke with confidence. Sarah wished she felt as sure.
Sliding his hands to her shoulders, he went on, "When did this happen?"
Although he held her, she could not shake off her melancholy. "Just now."
"Then why are you so sad?" Wolf massaged her gently.
"After she spoke Long Knife's name, a single tear fell from her eye, and then I thought I saw fear in them." Sarah relived the scene in her mind, trying to remember every detail. "When I tried to get her to talk again, she shut me, and I believe everything around her, out, retreating into her personal shell."
Sarah shook her head as if the motion might clarify the reversal in Quick Rabbit. "I may be wrong, but I think we should send a message to Long Knife." She stared deeply into his ebony eyes. "Can thee do this?"
"If he hadn't left to fulfill a foolish dream, he would be here now," Wolf said.
Remembering Wolf's anger at her when Long Knife joined the scouts, Sarah experienced two totally different emotions. She, too, wished the boy were here, but she recognized that is leaving was something he had to do. So she said, "But he did go. We must abide by his decision. Surely, Long Knife can be found and given leave to visit his mother."
"I have little control over the colonists," Wolf said, bitterness coloring his words.
She dropped her hands and prepared to leave. "Perhaps Jeremiah could help,” Sarah said, annoyed with Wolf for putting up roadblocks.
He grabbed her arms. "Why do you suggest him?"
The severe look Wolf gave her almost frightened her. Why would he respond so strongly and negatively at her suggestion? After all, he said he could not help, so they must try elsewhere. As a member of the Continental Army, Jeremiah was the logical one to ask. Was Wolf just too proud to seek help? Unable to understand his quick change, but unwilling to allow Quick Rabbit to suffer for Wolf's unwarranted behavior, Sarah pressed on. "Since Jeremiah's with the military, he is the obvious choice."
"Oh." Again
, his demeanor altered. He loosened his hold, while his fingers massaged her biceps with a casual intimacy. "Mayhap, he can."
Sarah wished she understood these sudden, sharp transformations. Should she question him? Another glance at his face convinced her to tackle that problem later. "Will thee send word tonight?"
"Two of my braves returned today from hunting. When they have rested, I will send Sharp Wind to Jeremiah."
She threw her arms around his neck, reached up, and pressed her lips to his.
He crushed her to him and deepened the kiss.
Warmth and desire spread out from the center of her being. Will I ever get enough of this man? Will I ever truly understand him? For the moment, she pushed all negative thoughts aside, wanting only to fulfill the yearning building deep within her.
She held his head in her hands as she eased her tongue inside his mouth. Her whole body craved fulfillment. "Where can we go?" she whispered in his ear then looked at him. His face showed the passion and need that had earlier excited her.
After a short hesitation, his dark eyes flashed; he took her hand. "Come."
They turned away from the plantation, crossed over the small creek where earlier Sarah had spied Little Turtle practicing with his knife, and kept walking into a dense woods.
"Not much farther," he glanced back to assure her.
I will follow thee anywhere, she said silently. "Fine." Sarah smiled at him.
He squeezed her fingers, his features brightening even more.
Minutes later, a very small cabin surrounded by trees and almost covered by undergrowth welcomed them. Sarah stopped. "Who lives here?"
"No one."
She sent him a quizzical look.
"White Owl built this when he first came to Long Meadow fifty years ago. Even now, when he wishes to escape from his everyday routine or perhaps remember, he comes and stays here." Wolf walked to the door, tugging Sarah gently.
"Will he mind if we use it?"
Pushing open the door, Wolf said, "No." He stepped aside so Sarah might enter.
A single room constructed of stripped logs, with a dark, wooden-beamed ceiling, greeted her. A stone hearth, with logs stacked and ready for a fire, graced the far wall. Off to the right, a table stood, on top, a corked water jar, and underneath a bench. On the left side, a bed, small, yet inviting waited.
Going to the mantle, Wolf lit the candle. Next, he applied his flint to the faggots of wood in the fireplace. While he worked, Sarah pulled the latch on the door closed, giving them the privacy she craved.
She walked to the bed. Deerskins covered the mattress. Bending, she lifted the fur and shook it.
Wolf laughed. "Bowl Woman comes once a week to clean and check supplies." He gestured to a small, closed cupboard between the table and the hearth that Sarah had not previously noticed. "She makes sure the cabin is always ready."
A light glowed from the newly lit fireplace, overwhelming the candlelight. Wolf rose and extinguished the slender flame.
Sarah undressed quickly, but not shyly. He did the same. The entire time, she looked directly at him. Never did his gaze shift from hers. As they discarded their clothes, she admired him. His strong features accented his oval face. The firelight revealed a compassionate, handsome man and played on his arms and shoulders, defining the muscles of his upper body. His broad chest, with a sharp delineation between his ribs and his flat stomach, caused her belly to ache with desire. Slender hips supported strong, lean legs and emphasized his manhood, now standing erect and eager, waiting for her. These thoughts quickened her craving.
He stepped closer. She stood her ground, anxious and eager. When he reached her side, he picked her up and placed her on the bed before joining her. Within moments, the rope springs sang their song, adding their melody to Sarah's passion. His fingers skimmed over her body, touching, caressing, and fondling each portion of her body until each fiber of her being cried out for release. "I love thee," she said, and knew the words to be true.
He smiled and retraced his trail, skimming across her shoulder, descended her arm to her hip, down her leg; only this time, he used his tongue and lips. When he reached her toes, he kissed them one by one before beginning his ascent.
She writhed in joyful agony. Her breath came in short, almost painful pants. "Kiss me."
"Patience. I will leave none of you untouched."
His lips captured hers. His tongue tormented the inside of her sensitized mouth. As she drank him in, he broke contact with her. "Don't leave," she murmured.
He chuckled. "That I will never do." His lightly bristled chin scrapped down her throat, to her breastbone, then to her navel.
She lifted her hips, willing him to take her. A second later, he claimed the seed of her pleasure. Her fingers grasped his shoulders, as a shower of shooting stars ignited her passion. "Wolf." Her body shook, but before she could fall back to earth, he entered her and all the lights of heaven shone. They rode across the sky together. An instant later, she shivered violently, and he collapsed on her chest.
His seed had spilled inside her, and although she wore no protection, had never used any with him, she did not care. Instead, she flexed her muscles, unwilling to allow any part of him to escape.
Supporting himself with his hands and arms, Wolf eased his chest off Sarah's body, but stayed inside her. "How beautiful you are."
She touched his cheek with her fingertips and smiled at him. As she caressed his smooth, firm skin, she remembered her promise to tell him the truth about herself. Before they left the cabin, she must confess her secret. A sense of fear invaded her. What if her words turned him away from her? She could not bear that to happen. "Promise me thee will not leave me. Please?"
"I will never part from you." He kissed her damp forehead.
She rubbed his smooth scalp with the palm of her hand. "Never has my body responded as it has to thee. I do love thee."
Her words inflamed him, and he captured her mouth with his. When at last, he freed her, he said, "I have fought against my emotions, but I surrender myself to you." Lightly, he touched his lips to hers. Then he snuggled next to her.
Although content within his arms, her conscience tweaked her. She had yet to tell him about her other life. Sighing, she said, "Wolf, I must talk to thee …"
"Later we have the rest of the afternoon and all evening to speak." His fingers traced a pattern across her cheek and down to her chin.
When he moved, he broke their intimate connection. She experienced a sense of loss, further increased by him not telling her that he loved her. Since he had not, perhaps, it was not necessary to share her secret with him. As soon as these thoughts entered her mind, she dismissed them. She must end her deception.
Shifting in his arms, Sarah faced him. "These words have waited too long; I must not keep them from thee any longer." She brushed her fingernail across his chest, hoping that touching him would ease the confusion and pain her words might bring him.
Catching her hand with his, he kissed each finger. "Can you not delay until after we have made love again?"
Chuckling, she said, "No. We have shared much, but what I have not revealed may change everything that has happened between us." Even now, part of her wanted to keep her secret, while her conscience pressed her to be honest with this man with whom she had shared so much. She averted her eyes as she spoke, fearing what she might see in his. Gathering courage, she faced him; how he received her news was important to their future relationship. She would watch his eyes for every nuance.
Since her arrival at Long Meadow, she had wondered what his reaction would be to this complicated revelation. Soon, she would know.
He saw her features become very serious. "Speak, and I will listen."
She tried to sit up, but he ducked her shoulder beneath his arm. "Stay close to me while you talk." Placing her hand on his chest, he covered hers with his and squeezed gently.
"I am not from thy century." She stared at him.
He tensed, but kept his
face neutral, but not without difficulty. "What did you say?"
"I am not from thy century," she repeated, very slowly.
Although she had repeated her statement, his mind refused to comprehend her words. Tilting her chin, he surveyed her face carefully, "I don't understand." And I'm not sure I wish to.
"Neither do I," she said. Her expression shouted for him to listen and believe, while her voice whispered each sound.
Swallowing, he said, "Tell me more." Although truthfully he wished Sarah had never begun this conversation.
"Remember the first time we met at the inn?"
He nodded, recalling the spirited, appealing Quaker, so reluctant to let him into the tavern.
"That was also my first day in this time period."
Her words made no sense. He remained quiet, hoping they soon would and that the uneasiness building in his belly would be for naught.
"Somehow, I went to sleep in the 21st Century and woke up in the 18th."
He almost laughed at her ludicrous statement, but feeling her tense in his arms, replaced his impulse with a quizzical glance.
"I know this is hard to believe, just trust me." She searched his face, waiting for him to show his doubt.
We cannot be having this conversation, he thought. His body and his expression remained under his control, but never before had it been as hard to do so.
"I was born almost two hundred years in the future," she murmured.
He fought the shock waves building inside him. She had said what he had thought. Is she a witch? Has a spirit possessed her? He wanted to ask, yet knew he would not. What can I say?
"Even after several weeks, I find the experience impossible to believe. Yet I ask thee to accept my words."