Smoke Screen

by Emilie Richards

  "Do you hear that?" he asked as she finished the last of her scone.

  Paige listened closely, identifying a new sound. It seemed to come from below them, a faint keening followed by an emphatic gurgle. "What is it?"

  "Papa, the earth mother."

  She listened again. "She's crying."

  Adam was surprised at her perception. "She cries for Rangi, the sky father. Once they were together, clasped in each other's arms. Then they were separated by their son, Tane, who pushed the sky far above the earth. When Papa cries for Rangi, the earth groans in anguish. When Rangi cries for Papa, his tears come to us as rain."

  Paige met Adam's eyes for the first time since she had felt his rejection. "All creation myths are beautiful, aren't they?"

  "Not all are tragic love stories."

  "I guess love's always the best story." Paige watched Adam fight his awareness of her again. When she could stand it no longer, she stood and went to the pond's edge to scoop water to wash her face. She straightened and felt Adam behind her. She wanted to turn, but she knew better. Through the heavy wool of her sweater, she felt his hands rest lightly on her shoulders.

  "I used to believe in love," he said quietly.

  "So did I."

  They stood that way for a long moment; then Paige felt the cool morning air where his hands had been. She turned; Adam was just stuffing the last of their picnic in his backpack. He looked up at her, and his eyes were shuttered. "There's more to see."

  She nodded and followed him back to the path.

  Chapter 8

  By the time they reached the hot pool where Adam wanted to swim Paige was tired again. He had acquainted her with more fumaroles, gushing springs and strangely formed mineral deposits than she had known existed. She had waited patiently for a geyser that never went off and thrown small sticks into another boiling mud pool, only to watch them sink forever out of sight.

  Adam had spoken little, other than to give detailed speeches about each geological phenomenon. If Paige had spoken about anything, it would have been about the tension between them and what they should do about it. And since those weren't thoughts she could speak, she had remained silent.

  Now she sank down to the ground and rested her chin on her knees. The hot pool poured steam into the morning air, where it condensed into visible droplets. The ground around the pool was scattered with wildflowers and ferns, and the pool itself was crystal clear and brilliantly blue. "Can we really swim here?" she asked doubtfully. "In New Orleans we boil crawfish in water that doesn't look any hotter than this." Adam favored her with an arrogant smile. "Shall I go first?"

  "Would it be to your advantage to get rid of me?" He grunted, and she knew it was an answer she could interpret either way. "I guess I'll have to trust you," she said, sitting straighter. Crossing her arms, she pulled the sweater over her head.

  Adam's mouth went dry as Paige began to unbutton her blouse. Rationally he knew she was probably wearing a bathing suit under her clothes, but some irrational part of him was still praying.

  Paige stood and stripped off her pleated wool pants. It was strange to be standing in the cold air naked except for the sleek, French-cut bathing suit. She reached up to twist her hair into a knot, then laughed at herself. "Now that's a habit for you. I cut my hair almost a year ago, but I still forget sometimes."

  Adam turned his gaze from the sight of her. For a moment he'd filled his eyes with the sumptuous curves of her breasts and hips, the tiny circle of her waist, the long, exquisite length of her legs. Now he forced himself to sound nonchalant when he felt anything but. "I can imagine you with long hair." And he could. Long, black pigtails framing dancing dark eyes.

  Paige watched Adam undress. She was sure he swam in the pool often, and just as sure that when he did, he didn't bother with a suit. She wished she could be a bird in the cabbage tree beside her at one of those moments. Adam naked would be a study in masculine beauty.

  He turned, and she made herself breathe. Adam in a swim-suit was a study in masculine beauty. The untanned portions of his body were the same creamy olive as hers. His shoulders were broader than she had realized, tapering down to a narrow waist and flat stomach. His cut-off jeans hung low over slender hips and taut, muscular thighs. His chest was finely matted with hair as silky as a butterfly's cocoon. She wished she could explore him with her hands.

  She pulled herself back to reality. The only exploration she would do that day was of the thermals. "Well, who goes first?" she asked, suddenly cold.

  Adam saw her shiver and wondered how much of it was the temperature and how much the tension. He held out his hand without weighing the consequences. He wanted her to be warm. He wanted to be warm. "I'll help you in. It's a shock at first."

  Hesitantly she slipped her hand inside his.

  Adam led her down to the water's edge and walked in as if the temperature was of no concern. Paige followed, but her lips clamped shut in painful surprise as the water covered her feet.

  Adam felt her hand jerk, and he stopped, waiting for her to adjust. "You'll get used to it."

  Paige inched in until the water came up to her knees. She resisted looking down to see if her body was still covered with skin.

  "After the first jolt, the temperature seems more bearable." Adam lowered himself into the water so everything but his head was covered. He tugged lightly on her hand. "Coming?"

  "This can't be healthy."

  "On the contrary, your friend Armstrong is banking that this spring and others like it are healthy to the tune of millions of dollars of tourist business. He'll come in and pipe it into a concrete shell, chlorinate it and count his money."

  "Who would pay to be boiled alive?"

  Adam tugged again. With a sigh Paige shut her eyes and lowered herself into the water. Adam felt her hand tense in his. "Give it a minute, and if you don't like it, we'll go."

  She waited, counting slowly to sixty, but by thirty, the water was beginning to feel more comfortable. By forty, she opened her eyes. "Am I getting used to it, or have all my nerves short-circuited?"

  Adam wished his nerves would short-circuit. It would make it easier to be close to her. "A hot pool like this one figures in another Maori love story."

  Paige could feel the heat penetrating her bones. "Is it as sad as the last one? Tears from the sky and agonized cries from the earth?"

  "Do you like happy endings, kaihana?”

  "I like them, I just don't believe them."

  "I'll tell you this story, and you can decide whether to believe it or not. There's a spot at the edge just made for stories." Adam led her to a shallow, sandy shelf that sloped down to deeper water. He sat while she considered how to make herself comfortable. Before she could decide or he could think clearly, Adam spread his legs and pulled her to sit between them. He circled her with his arm, forcing her to lie back against him. His wrist brushed her breasts, and she could feel her nipples harden from the contact. For a moment she couldn't breathe.

  "Comfortable?" he asked.

  "Not at all."

  Harsh laughter rumbled against her back. He began his story before he could begin something else. "In the middle of Lake Rotorua, there's an island, Mokoia Island, that figures in Arawa history. Did you see it when you were there?"

  She knew better than to draw attention to her reaction. She forced herself to breathe. "I didn't see the lake except from a distance."

  "I'll take you there someday, and we'll swim in a hot pool like this one. It's the one where Hinemoa and Tutanekai swam." His arms tightened until she was his prisoner.

  "Tell me about them," she said, trying to relax.

  "Tutanekai was the stepson of Whakaue, and he had three elder brothers who resented him because Tutanekai was illegitimate—"

  "Haven't you left something out?"

  He backtracked. She had turned her head, and her cheek was warm satin against his chest. "Tutanekai's mother fell in love with another man while her husband was away from home. But being an unde
rstanding, gracious sort, he accepted the child of that union when he returned."

  She managed to stop herself from snuggling closer. "Are all Maori men that understanding?"

  "I wouldn't attempt to find out." His mouth skimmed her hair in a kiss she couldn't feel. "Tutanekai grew up on Mokoia Island, a handsome, strong young man, skilled in every way. At the same time, at Owhata across the lake, there was a beautiful young maiden named Hinemoa, the daughter of a very influential chief. Because of her high rank, Hinemoa was made a puhi, which means she was declared tapu. She couldn't sleep with any man nor choose her own husband as most women were allowed to do. She had to let her hapu choose a husband for her. When she reached maturity, many young men came to ask for Hinemoa's hand, including all the elder brothers of Tutanekai. But her father refused them all."

  "So she was destined to live a virgin?"

  "Not so. Our people have always gathered for meetings. In those days, we did the same. Hinemoa saw Tutanekai at one of those meetings and fell in love. Tutanekai fell just as hard. Because of Tutanekai's lowly birth, they couldn't even speak to each other, but each time they met they conveyed their feelings with their eyes."

  Paige stirred in his arms.

  He held her tighter. "Tutanekai was so unhappy about this state of affairs that every night he would sit with his good friend Tiki on the beach of Mokoia Island and play sad music on his flute. All the way across the water Hinemoa would hear him, and sadness would fill her, too."

  "A flute like yours?"

  "I copied mine from one in the Auckland Museum that's said to have been Tutanekai's."

  Paige remembered the sad melody Adam had played for her, and she knew how Hinemoa must have felt. "Go on."

  "After many nights of this, Hinemoa knew she could never marry anyone except Tutanekai. Her people began to suspect as much, and, worried that she might try to go to Tutanekai, they began to pull their canoes well up onto the beach at dusk to keep Hinemoa at home. Finally, it was more than Hinemoa could bear. She decided that if she couldn't use a canoe to reach Tutanekai, she would swim. The next night she told her people she was going to the whare tapere, which was the place where games were played and dances performed, but instead she went to the cooking house, where she stole six calabashes."

  "Calabashes?"

  "Hollow gourds used for storage, or transporting drinking water. Hinemoa fashioned them into primitive water wings, took off her clothes, slipped into the water and began to swim the mile to Mokoia Island." Adam brushed Paige's hair with his lips again. "Shall I tell you the rest of the story?"

  "Umm... Please."

  His hands slowly traveled down to her hips and rested there. "After a very long, tiring swim, she made it, guided all the while by Tutanekai's music. When she climbed up on the beach, however, she was alone and very cold, so she headed right for the warm bathing pool called Waikimihia, which was just below Tutanekai's house, to rest. After she had warmed up, she realized she was in a bit of a predicament because her clothes were on the beach at Owhata, and she was beginning to feel shy."

  "A fine time to think of that."

  His fingers fanned out to caress the firm flesh of her thighs. "Shall I go on?"

  Paige felt her pulse begin to speed. Her oxygen supply had stopped at the touch of his roving hands. "Please," she said in a breathy voice.

  "About that time, Tutanekai began to get thirsty, and he sent his slave down to the lake for water. When Hinemoa heard someone passing, she called out and asked in a gruff voice who the water was for. The slave replied it was for Tutanekai, and Hinemoa, secluded from his sight, reached out, grabbed the calabash and broke it. The slave went back inside and reported what had happened, and Tutanekai sent him back to the lake with another calabash. The same thing happened again. This time when the slave returned to tell Tutanekai, Tutanekai was furious, so, grabbing his best feathered cloak and a weapon made of greenstone, he marched down to the pool to fight the stranger who dared to break his calabashes."

  Paige covered Adam's hands with hers, halting their progress. "It's a good thing she brought her own along to replace them."

  "I don't think Tutanekai was too worried about his calabashes, kaihana. When he arrived at the pool he issued a challenge, but there was no answer. Hinemoa had moved to a spot where a small overhanging rock gave her cover. Tutanekai felt along the edge of the pool until he reached the place. Catching her by the hair, he pulled her clear and shouted, 'Who are you? Who dares to annoy me?' She answered, 'It is I, Hinemoa, who has come to you.' Tutanekai lifted her from the water, and I'm sure he thought he had never seen anything so beautiful. Then he covered her with his cloak and led her to his house, where he took her to his bed, and thus they were married."

  Paige had a sudden longing for the good old days. "It was that simple?"

  "The next day her family, suspecting what had happened, came to the island, but because Hinemoa had shown so much courage, they couldn't be angry with her. There was feasting and rejoicing, and a lasting peace was made between the two families."

  "A much happier ending than Shakespeare would have given it."

  "Tutanekai and Hinemoa lived on Mokoia Island for some years, but later they moved to the summit of Tihi o Tonga. It's said that Tutanekai was the chief who had steps carved in the face of the cliff there, leading to the cave where Horo-i-rangi was kept."

  Paige turned so she could see his face. "Did Tutanekai have anything to do with the Horo-i-rangi you're looking for?"

  "I don't know. The story is too obscure."

  "It would make sense, wouldn't it, that a man as much in love as Tutanekai would see fertility and the life force in a carved stone goddess?"

  "It would." Adam reluctantly lifted his hands from her legs and brushed her hair back from her face, framing it with his palms. "Did you like the story?"

  She had found the story strangely touching, especially hearing it with Adam's arms around her. "I'm glad you told me."

  "And the happy ending?"

  "Reserved for legends."

  Adam wanted to kiss away her cynicism. Instead his hands moved to her shoulders, and he lifted her so that he could move away. If he held her for one more moment, he might never let her go.

  He struck out for the middle of the pool. Paige watched him until he turned and waited; then she followed. The pool wasn't large, but by the time she joined him, she was tired. The heat of the water after the long hike made her feel boneless and good for nothing.

  "Feel the difference in the temperature." Adam stood straight, his head barely above water. He stretched out a hand to help hold her up.

  "It's cooler here. Why?"

  "We're farther from the spring itself."

  Paige lay back in the water and closed her eyes, half-floating. A warm feeling of well-being overlay the awareness he had kindled. "You must come here often."

  "Not as often as I'd like. I don't have the time."

  Paige thought about Adam's words. She hadn't given much thought to the time he was taking out of his schedule to guide her. He was a man with a large farm and a small son, and both needed his full attention. She wondered if she was so used to getting what she wanted that she just assumed others should be at her beck and call. An apology seemed in order. She moved a little closer.

  "You know, I've taken up more of your time since I came here than I have a right to. I'm sure you must have a hundred other things you should be doing right now."

  "Two hundred. But none more important than this."

  "Someone else could have taken me through."

  "I wanted you to see the thermals with me."

  She knew he meant because he could give her the most comprehensive tour, but she liked the way the words had sounded, anyway. "I wanted to see them with you, too," she admitted.

  "You hid that fact well."

  "You made me angry."

  "It might have been safer if you'd stayed that way."

  She straightened, no longer relaxed. Without a word she sw
am to a shallower spot.

  Adam joined her. "And now I've made you angry again."

  "Do we need anger to keep our distance from each other? We're not children. You've made it clear you want our relationship to be purely business. I'm happy to oblige."

  Adam straightened, too. "Are you happy?" he asked, one lifted brow signaling his distrust. "I shouldn't have thought so, but then, maybe I misread what happens to you when I touch you."

  For a moment Paige's usual candor deserted her. She wanted to tell him that he had misread her, but Adam wasn't a man to be lied to. She made herself meet his gaze squarely. "I respond to you. But you're not the first man I've responded to, and you won't be the last. I've seen too much to think the world revolves around the chemistry between a man and a woman."

  Adam knew he should applaud, but he had never felt less in the mood. Instead he felt anger at the men who were responsible for making her belittle the potent attraction between them. Somewhere she had learned to expect nothing from any man except a fleeting physical release. He wanted to prove to her that more was possible, even if he knew it was wrong to try.

  "Not a very romantic sentiment for a woman who likes happily-ever-after’s," he said at last, schooling himself to sound calm.

  "Romance?" She forced a laugh. "My husband bled it out of me, one drop at a time."

  "And what replaced it?" He moved a step closer.

  "Good sense." Paige stood perfectly still, but her heart beat faster.

  "Sheila bled me dry. Apparently, I wasn't as lucky as you were."

  "What do you mean?"

  "No one transfused me with good sense." He took another step.

  "Then we're lucky I've acquired enough for both of us."

  He shook his head as he moved closer still. "I'm beginning to think there isn't enough good sense in the world to keep us apart."

  "Adam, no."

  "No, what? No, there isn't enough good sense? No, you don't want this?"

  "Maybe I should remind you of yesterday's lecture. You don't want me remember?" She stood her ground, but it took all her strength to do so. She wanted to retreat from the new feral gleam in his eye and the pounding of her own heart.