by Chana Keefer
The thrill of battle was in his eyes, but he couldn’t fit through the small window that had been a tight squeeze even for me. But I betrayed myself when my eyes darted to the small door, the true entrance to the storage room, camouflaged by items on the other side.
I lost the short struggle for command of the door and Sky advanced. “Someone is going to pay.”
I moved back a few more inches knowing all I could do was postpone the inevitable. Note to self: Getting cornered in a six by six room is horrible battle strategy.
I was just considering a dash for the window when the wood at my feet gave a loud crack. Like skating on an icy pond, messing around old barns calls for caution.
Sky grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the room. “That was too close,” he said, inspecting the area a bit before moving the hay aside to make the hole in the floor more obvious. I secured a handful of hay just to be prepared. He turned toward me, “You should be more careful.”
“What?” I asked. “Like, never get into a car with strangers?” I could tell the hay bomb was not forgotten as he reached out to pick me up as he had the night before. I slipped the hay down the neck of his shirt.
“You… !” he spluttered as the hay slipped further down his back and I struggled to get away, but he held tight and carried me toward the pile in the center of the room
I caught sight of Sammy at the top of the stairs. “A little help here?” He sat down to lick himself. My hero.
I landed with a shriek just as Jeremiah shot up the stairs. Jeremiah dove in and all hay broke loose with Sammy barking, wagging, and licking everywhere at once. Armfuls of hay were thrown, handfuls of hay went down backs and chaos reigned.
Finally, I started coughing and sneezing. Breathing the air filled with decades old hay dust sent my defenses reeling but it took Sky a moment to trust the symptoms. I couldn’t blame him. I’d been fighting dirty. Finally he led me to the wide opening where a fresh breeze blew in.
Hay stuck out of my hair, I wiped tears from my face with a very dirty hand so I was most likely streaked with grime, my eyes dripped, and I continued to sneeze every five seconds. I’d only known the man for 18 hours and he’d seen me at my absolute messiest—twice!
So why was he looking at me like that?
As the sneezing slowed down, I reached to remove a few sprigs of hay from his hair. A tuft came out the collar at the back of his shirt. My handiwork. I giggled and pulled it out.
The nearness of him, the fragrance of him, (how could he smell that good at a time like this?) filled my senses in a way I never dreamed possible.
I opened my eyes just knowing he must see the flames raging behind them. He met my gaze with a slow smile. I knew there was no way he could miss the message contained there.
His eyes traveled down to my lips and the smile grew. He chuckled and reached toward me with the edge of his shirt, aiming for the nose.
I blocked his hand, “No way am I blowing my nose on your shirt!” I brought up the edge of my own to wipe it.
Leave it to me to feel sexy with a snotty nose. The clean up process complete, I presented my nose for approval.
Sky was perfectly still, but the attraction in his eyes took my breath away. I’d always heard that expression, now I knew what it meant.
The steady “wop, wop” of a helicopter rotor broke the moment. It buzzed our barn and headed toward the house.
Jeremiah ran over and we all leaned out the opening to watch.
The helicopter hovered above our front yard, making the surrounding trees bend as if in a hurricane.
I could see a large “3” on its side. Ah! It was from a news station.
The inhabitants of the house filed out. John ran, waved, yelled, and finally climbed atop the fence to strike some bodybuilder poses.
After a couple more moments, the newsmongers must have realized this was the only payoff for their troubles. The hovering craft turned around, heading back toward the city. There was one tense moment when I thought we’d been spotted, but the huge machine “wopped” away until all was silent.
It was a rude yank back to reality. His was a world where every move was of interest to millions of fans, and a simple visit to the country could be a headline.
Tomorrow, I would go back to being another fan, just like all the rest.
We headed to the house brushing off debris as Jeremiah chattered about other close calls with paparazzi. He described the excitement of outrunning cars, working to get lost in a crowd to earn a few minutes at a park, busting people who snuck onto private parties with little cameras hidden on them.
“Father said the worst was the wedding,” Jeremiah rolled his eyes, “He said you couldn’t even hear the vows due to helicopters over the church.”
Ah. That wedding.
“That’s ancient history, Miah,” Sky said as he hooked Jeremiah in a headlock. “You were still a baby, who talked a lot less.” He slapped Jeremiah on the back, sending up a poof of dust from the boy’s shirt.
“Hey look!” I added another hard pat to Jeremiah’s dusty shirt.
“You’re not any better.” Jeremiah slapped my back sending up a smoke-signal of my own.
“Yeah,“ I turned the boy to face his uncle. “But I think he’s the worst of all. What to do?”
Jeremiah gave an evil grin. “Let’s get ‘im!” We both rushed Sky, patting him about the head and shoulders.
He grabbed Jeremiah up in his arms thereby taking out at least three-fourths of the enemy fire and continued toward the house. As he walked, he kept up a steady stream of merciless tickling that had Jeremiah screeching with laughter.
Somehow, he managed the fence while still wrangling and tickling Miah senseless, then continued to the pool where he dumped the boy in.
By this time, I was over the fence while Sky remained squatting by the pool, taunting the sputtering Miah. The temptation was irresistible. A shove with my hip and SPLASH! He was in.
I raced for the house as Sky struggled out of the pool. Thinking my getaway was a success I reached for the knob just as James opened the door.
“Now that,” he blocked my way with a wry smile, “wasn’t very nice.” John appeared behind him, eyes glittering. Uh-oh.
I might have had a sporting chance of outrunning James and possibly Sky, hindered by waterlogged clothing, but not John. He was fast as a rabbit and tenacious to boot. Yep, I was done for.
“You don’t know me well enough to be mean.” I backed out of reach. “They’ve been horrible. I mean, look at me,” I referred to my filthy state, I opened my eyes wide in what I hoped was innocence, just as dripping hands seized my shoulders.
“Don’t believe a word of it,” Sky said. “The woman’s a fiend.”
The trial was over. I was swept up over Sky’s shoulder who sloshed back toward the pool. I didn’t have to make it easy though. I struggled, kicked and squirmed. However, despite my best efforts, he soon jumped into the pool with me in his arms.
The freezing water hit with a shock and I came up coughing and sputtering with a sheet of wet hair covering my face and my straw hat bobbing beside me.
They were laughing and whistling, as I went back under to wash the hair away from my eyes. Let them have their moment of triumph. I swam to the edge of the pool where James good-naturedly reached a hand to assist.
“Uh, you don’t want to do that… ” John warned, but I grasped firmly and pushed hard against the side of the pool. Gravity did the rest.
James came up with a look of shock on his face. “Fiend indeed!” I laughed, but had a horrible sense of dread as I saw him nod to Sky. Four hands took hold and fingers dug into my ribs. No! Anything but that!
All bets were off. I kicked, scratched, my head hit something hard, and I’m pretty sure my elbow connected with a nose.
In deeper water, I squirmed free and dove down to grab Sky’s legs, pulling him down with me.
As I returned for air, my strength was sapped. Sky grabbed me by the waist and began plod
ding his way to the side where he slumped against the wall of the pool saying, “Alright, alright! England concedes!”
We looked up to find Mom, Dad and Wally, staring down, expressions of disbelief on their faces.
Wally turned back toward the house, tucking mom’s arm in his. “You have no idea what I put up with. I often feel I’m managing a zoo rather than a concert tour.”
With another nod, Sky and James climbed out of the pool and dripped up behind Wally. James removed Wally’s arm from my mom, took a few papers out of Wally’s shirt pocket then inquired, “Is there anything else you wish to declare, sir?”
Wally, seeming to recognize the hopelessness of his situation, reached into his other pockets to dislodge wallet, keys, two-way radio, and the pager that never left his person. He handed them to my mom who bit her lip to hide a smile.
He knelt to remove his shoes, then was seized by the arms and legs and carried to the pool where Sky and James shouted, “One! Two! Three!” and tossed him in with Jeremiah.
The moment was broken by the sound of approaching rotors.
Sky grabbed Jeremiah around the mid-section, handing him up to James. Wally and I climbed out as well and sloshed to join the rest who were forming a bottleneck at the back door. The helicopter buzzed low just as we ducked into the house to stand as a dripping mass on the entry rug. Mom rushed for towels as we shivered.
I pulled the shaking Jeremiah close, then felt myself pulled close to Sky. Oh Lord. It was happening again. I felt the heat rise to my face as I looked up at him. I had to get out of this magnetic zone before my knees buckled and I threw myself at him in front of God and everybody.
I stepped off the rug, leaving a puddle on the floor. “I’ll help Mom.” I made a quick exit to my bathroom where I found towels and a moment to steady my nerves.
I leaned against the cool tile counter. I’d heard something about cold showers helping in situations like this. Nope. I was freezing, soaked, and still felt out of control.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When I returned, everyone stood wrapped in towels and peering out the window. The sky was clear of newshounds so Jeremiah and John decided on more swimming. Wally gave his grudging permission, but insisted Miah at least change into a swimsuit. There were always so many cousins, grandkids, and friends dropping in, extra suits were easy to come by.
I was grateful for a few moments to pull myself together and clean up. I hadn’t felt this grungy since jr. high summer camp when, coated in sweat, bug repellant, and sunscreen, a group of us had been caught in the rain.
Three sudsings later, I’d cleared all traces of our grassy brawl. Ah! Human again. I threw mousse into the wet curls and applied a little make-up, just enough to look accidentally pulled together.
I chose a fresh white blouse with eyelet lace around the neck and a pair of jeans, then joined mom as she prepared food for the grill. “Where is, um, everybody?”
“A certain, um, ‘everybody’ went off to visit the horses.” She pushed an auburn wave from her forehead and looked up from the ground beef. “He’s charming, Sweetie,” she said in the tone of a doctor announcing terminal cancer.
“I’ll get the laundry going.” I bustled away to escape “the talk” brewing in her eyes.
I secured the soggy pile of clothing and went out to the yard to shake out any remaining hay. When I came to Sky’s shirt, I looked around to make sure the coast was clear, then buried my nose in the linen, delighted to discover his scent lingered. The thrill died. He would go away and then what? I’d buy more posters and pine away?
I turned to re-enter the garage, juggling the soggy items as I fumbled with the knob. The door opened and a hand drew me into the dimness of the garage where Sky, sporting a pair of John’s athletic pants and a snug t-shirt touting our hometown football team, took the pile of clothing from my arms, dropped it to the ground and drew me to his chest. My hammering heart slowed as tension seeped away. I found myself breathing in the scent of his skin and enjoying the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat, face nestled in the warm curve of his neck.
For a long moment we stood in silence until, at the same instant, we both breathed deeply. Sky leaned me against the wall and placed his forehead to mine.
“What am I to do with you? On one hand, I want to attack you in a very serious way, but then I feel the need to protect you—even from me. What of that?”
The conflict raged in me as well and increased the longer I remained close to him. I was cozy and peaceful, yet something stirred—something frightening and intense and amazing. I’d always imagined the struggle to save myself for marriage would require deft deflection of some guy’s advances, but I hadn’t imagined me fighting primal urges.
Sky brought both his hands up to my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb and melting every bone in my body. I was catatonic yet every cell was on fire. I wanted his lips on mine more than I wanted my next breath.
It was a simple, artless touch of my mouth to his, ridiculously childlike really, but something happened at the end. Without realizing it, I had been holding my breath and, as his lips left mine, a whimper escaped. It was barely audible and yet, somehow, my state of mind was broadcast as if I’d climbed onto the roof and screamed, “I want you so bad I can’t stand it!”
With a moan, his arms reached around pulling me to him. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I didn’t care. All I knew was, however tightly he held me, it wasn’t tight enough. When his mouth came down to mine again, there was nothing childlike about it.
“So this is what a kiss can be!” my senses marveled. More than a physical touch, it was an agreement, a blending that made me want to lose myself in him.
I clung to Sky while warning bells sounded from every corridor of my being. We were in my parent’s garage, stealing a few exciting moments before… what? I couldn’t care less.
Sky’s hand, warm on the small of my back, pressed me closer. If I didn’t come up for air now, I’d drown with a smile on my face.
The battle’s main front centered on my hands that gripped and released his shirt, wanting to pull him closer and push him away at the same time.
Fingernails bit into my palms as three trains labeled body, mind, and emotion barreled toward the collision of the century.
Thoughts flitted at the edge of consciousness. This is crazy. I’ll never see him again. It was just enough for one decisive gasp for air.
Sky’s hands gripped my shoulders and he stepped back with a mumbled, “Forgive me.”
“No, It’s my fault… ”
“I’d hate to argue,” he teased. I was too exposed to be funny. He took my chin in his hand and tilted my face up to look in his eyes. Somehow the look was more intimate than the kiss. “Are you okay?”
How could I answer that? With the truth? “You’ve shredded me so much I can’t remember my own name?” Instead, I uttered an unconvincing, “Yeah,” and… my chin quivered. Aw man! Couldn’t I lie believably just this once?
“So, when do you go?” Ooh… number one bad opener after a moment of passion.
Sky mumbled something about a 6 o’clock flight and I nodded as if that fact wasn’t a golden stake through my heart. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, what to say, where to stand. Where was the little guy behind the curtain who prompts the forgetful actor in a play? Someone? Anyone? Line?
The moment was broken by voices in the hallway. We slipped outside to find Sammy waiting.
This time we walked toward the hay barn and horse corral in the direction of the railroad tracks at the back of the property. We strolled in silence as the fresh air began to clear my head. “Aren’t we running the risk of helicopters?” I asked.
“Not afraid of a little risk are you?” Sky reached for my hand.
I opened the gate to the field, allowing Sammy to run ahead of us.
Sugar, the red colt with the white star on her nose, ran toward us. She had been coddled and spoiled since birth and feared no one. Her mother, Lady, lifted her
head but, since we didn’t carry a bucket of oats, we were of no use to her.
We stood a couple minutes petting Sugar who snuffed us for food. When she realized Sky had no treats, she strolled behind and gave him a hard shove with her nose.
“Hey!” Sky exclaimed as Sugar blinked large, unrepentant brown eyes.
I pushed her muzzle away but as we walked, she continued to nudge Sky along.
“I think there’re a few things we need to discuss,” Sky said, then whirled round to face Sugar. “If you don’t mind!” he caught her in the act of another shove then draped an arm around her neck and continued walking, Sugar secured on one side, me on the other.
“First, I have a confession to make.”
“Uh oh. Confessions.” I tried to make light of it but dreaded his next words. Had I done something wrong, stupid, juvenile? Perhaps all of the above?
“Do you recall leaving a personal item behind at the arena last night?”
Hmm. A fairly safe subject. “Marti got everything, right?”
“No, Jake got hold of this one and, as a rule, he is not known for sensitivity.”
Realization dawned. Dread returned. “My journal?”
He nodded. “We were about to go on stage when he brought it out. He said he had something to inspire us and proceeded to read aloud.”
I groaned. My journal must have sounded so silly to them.
“I’m ashamed to say I didn’t rush to defend you. Jake would have loved a game of ‘keep away.’”
By this time, my hands covered my face.
“Don’t worry, he didn’t get through more than a couple sentences, thanks to Wally.” Sky chuckled. “When he realized what Jake was doing, he grabbed the book and whacked him soundly on the head with it; very hard.”
I laughed at the thought. “I guess it could have been worse.”
“Now for the confession.”
So, it was worse. “What did you do, publish it in the Tribune?”
“I read it.” He winced. “All of it.”