by S. C. Wilson
Abby nodded in agreement. She whispered, “I reckon so. And I can’t wait to see your baby.”
Smiling, Edith released her hands and stepped back. “You two take care of yourselves, and don’t be strangers.”
“We will,” Jesse said. “Thank you for everything.”
With several miles to cover before sundown, Jesse and Abby set out traveling as fast as their supply-laden horses would allow. They rode together on Buck, Titan tethered behind with a length of rope. Jesse held the reins loosely with one hand, her other wrapped firmly around Abby’s waist as they moseyed along the secluded path in the woods that led the way home.
Jesse asked, “Do you think we’re the only two women to be together?”
“No. I’m sure there’re others.”
Jesse cleared her throat. “Can I ask you something? And you promise not to get mad?”
Abby placed her hand on top of Jesse’s. “Sure. I promise.”
“Do you like being with men?” Jesse bit down on her lip, but failed to chew down the warmth spreading up into her face.
Abby squirmed in the saddle.
“I’m trying to understand. If you’re attracted to men, then how are you attracted to me?”
Abby stared down at the saddle horn, trying to figure out the best way to explain her feelings. She wasn’t sure there was an explanation. “I think if I had met you as a woman…well…I can’t imagine we would’ve ended up together. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not attracted to women.”
“But that’s exactly what I am,” she said, leaning back to put some distance between them.
Abby put her hand on Jesse’s leg. “I know. But you’re different.”
“But, when I don’t have clothes on, how are you attracted to what you see?”
She rubbed Jesse’s leg. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Try. I need to know.”
Abby drew in a breath and released a heavy sigh. “I think getting to know you before I found out the truth made me see you in a different way. When I look at you I see more than just flesh. I see so much more…” She paused, searching for words. “Jes, I see you for exactly who you are. A person who is smart, strong, loving, and kind. I see the person I fell in love with. The person I love unconditionally. The person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I just see you.”
“Hmm.” Jesse contemplated Abby’s words. Then she asked, “But what if I decided not to look like this anymore and had gone back to looking like a woman? Would you still be with me?”
Abby silently pondered the scenario for a moment. She glanced down at the hand holding the reins, and the one which had a firm grip around her middle. They were rough and calloused from years of hard work. She realized she didn’t think of them as being either masculine or feminine. They were simply Jesse’s. And they were perfect. She interlaced her fingers with Jesse’s before continuing. “I have never loved anyone more than I love you. I can say this with certainty. I will be with you no matter how you choose to look. I’m in love with you, not the clothing you wear.” She chuckled under her breath. “I guess I was wrong before. I am attracted to a woman after all.”
A few minutes later, Jesse got the nerve to ask something that had been weighing on her mind for some time. “You know I’ve never been with a man, so the only thing I know is what I saw when I was a kid. It wasn’t like that for you was it?” She craned her neck in an attempt to see Abby’s face.
Not only was Jesse’s openness to talk about such things new to Abby, so was her understanding when it came to her relationship with Sam. She knew how most men would have reacted when they found out she had been intimate with someone else. They would have considered her damaged goods. This was just one more thing setting Jesse apart. In her heart she knew Jesse wasn’t asking to be judgmental, she was merely concerned for her well-being. Even so, some of it was hard for her to discuss.
Abby placed her hand on her stomach. “You mean when I was with Sam?”
“Yes. When you shared your bed with him. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
An unnatural quietness lingered and Abby felt herself blush before she spoke. “Do you really want to talk about that?” she said, fidgeting with her ring.
“Yes, or I wouldn’t have brought it up,” she said, tone sincere.
Abby wanted to hide underneath the saddle. There was no way to escape the embarrassing question. “No, Jes. He didn’t hurt me.”
“Did you enjoy it—I’m only asking because I want to know if you like having…you know…with men, then how can you like being with me?”
Abby didn’t need to search for words this time. She turned in the saddle to face her. “No one has ever made me feel the way you make me feel. With men, it’s basically about their needs. Their pleasure. You’re the only one who has ever put my pleasure first. Does that make sense?”
“I suppose,” Jesse said, still somewhat confused. “But I don’t have what they have. You know what I mean?”
Discussing male genitalia, especially in the broad daylight, made Abby uncomfortable. The leather squeaked underneath her when she shifted again. She released a long breath and cleared her throat. Her tone was low, almost a whisper when she spoke.
“I’ve only been with two men in my life, but I can tell you this. The way you touch me—the things you do to me—out pleasures anything I have ever experienced with either of them. Being with you is like the best of both worlds. You’re outwardly strong, yet your touch is tender. The things you do to me…well.” She shook her head. “I didn’t even know my body could feel like that.”
Silence doused them, thick like molasses. Abby hoped Jesse didn’t press for more information about the night she gave her body to Sam. It wasn’t something she was comfortable talking about, especially with her.
Jesse softly brushed the hair away from Abby’s neck. Slowly, she whispered kisses along the heated skin.
Abby’s body shivered with each touch of Jesse’s lips. She leaned her head to one side, granting Jesse unrestricted access. “Um, don’t you start something you can’t finish,” she advised, body covered with goose flesh.
Jesse nipped tenderly on Abby’s earlobe as she reached forward and slowly used her fingers to draw Abby’s dress and petticoat higher, exposing the bare skin beneath. “Oh, I can finish,” she murmured, sliding her hand up the inside of Abby’s thigh.
Chapter Eight
Sunlight broke through the haze atop Mount Perish, the morning rays making quick work of drying the dew-drenched grass. Small waves lapped along the shoreline beside where Jesse and Abby still slept. Instead of returning to the cabin, they had stolen one last night alone, choosing a bed beneath the stars.
Jesse woke slowly, her right arm draped around Abby’s waist, a small smile curving the edges of her mouth. The cedar-scented smoke that hung over the camp tickled her nose even before she saw the smoldering embers. As much as she hated to take her hands off of Abby, the fire would die without her help. She slid out from under the wool blanket and knelt to add another log, holding her hands over the heat for warmth as she watched the wood catch.
“Mornin’, Jes,” Abby said, her breath visible in the chilly air.
Jesse blew a warm breath into her cupped hands. “Good morning.” She rubbed them together, trying to trap the heat. “Do you want me to put on the coffee?”
Abby hesitated. “Um, since we are so close to the cabin, how about we wait and have it with Toby and Aponi?”
“All right. Let me put this out and we can be on our way,” she said, kicking dirt to douse the newly kindled flames.
The mirrored surface of the lake reflected their campsite, and Abby found herself staring at it wistfully. For a moment, she saw them as they were just hours before, beneath the silvery light of the moon, arms and legs entwined below the surface. She closed her eyes, letting the memory wash over her, a rosy flush crawling up her neck.
“Mmm, last night was wonderful,” she murmured, still unwilling to open her e
yes and break the spell. She could still feel Jesse’s touch on her body—all over her body. “You were incredible.”
The smile Abby’s words brought quickly faded. Jesse walked over and sat down beside her. She placed her hand lightly on Abby’s stomach. “Do you think it’s safe for her?” she asked. “Maybe we shouldn’t…you know.”
Abby opened her eyes, rolled over, and met Jesse’s gaze. “Don’t worry, it’s fine,” she said, placing her hand on top of Jesse’s. “So, you’re sticking with a girl?”
“Yep. That’s what my gut says, anyway.”
“Will you be disappointed if I give you a son?”
Jesse looked dazed the moment Abby’s words registered with her.
“You do realize I didn’t agree to marry you just for this baby to have your name or protect my honor,” Abby said. “This child will be as much yours as it is mine. We are equal partners in this, right?”
Abby’s words touched her deeply. She felt the sentiment as physical warmth which started in her heart and radiated through her entire body. The glow encapsulated all three of them: Jesse, Abby, and the baby. Their baby. She had offered to help Abby raise her child, but she hadn’t realized until that moment Abby considered the unborn child to be hers as well. Her heart was full.
“Yes. Partners.” Jesse pushed down the lump in her throat. “And honestly, I don’t care what you have. As long as you and the baby are fine, that’s all that matters.” Jesse rubbed the scar on her forehead.
“What is it?” Abby asked, understanding the subliminal gesture meant Jesse was deep in thought.
“I’m not sure how this is going to work. Won’t this child be confused about having two mothers?”
“Oh, Jes, why would you even think that? If anyone would understand, I thought for sure you would.” She let out a long sigh. “I know Frieda didn’t give birth to you, but wouldn’t you say she was a mother to you just as much as Sarah?”
A smile crept across her face, unbidden, at the mention of her old mentor. “She was.”
“See? I don’t think our child could ever have too much love. I think it will be blessed to have two loving parents. Look, we have plenty of time, so let’s just figure it out as we go?” Abby put a warm hand on the back of Jesse’s neck. She pulled her down and met her lips with her own before whispering, “I think it will be a boy. Either way, one of us is going to be right.”
“It’s good to see home again,” Abby said when the cabin came into view. Its rough-hewn logs, old and weathered, had never looked so welcoming.
Jesse loosely wrapped Buck’s reins around the paddock fence and made a beeline straight for the door. Abby was a little shocked. Jesse was one to stick to a routine. She usually tended to the horses before doing anything else.
Her excitement was contagious, though. Abby followed close behind, her heart thumping, peeking anxiously around Jesse’s shoulder as the cabin door swung open. Inside, she saw Toby and Aponi seated at the table, a deck of cards splayed out in front of them. With them was a man she had never seen before.
After a morning spent tending to the horses and catching up on everything that had taken place since everyone had last been together, the topic of conversation soon changed course. Aponi and Ahanu invited each of them to come see their village on the other side of the mountain. As much as Jesse wanted to go, she had to decline when she found out they would have to make the journey on foot. There was no way she could leave the horses unsupervised, knowing they would be at risk of attack by predators. Fortunately, Ahanu graciously offered to stay behind to care for them.
With their plans solidified, Abby took Jesse by the hand and led her outside to a spot halfway between the cabin and the stream. “This is the perfect place,” she said, over the babbling sound of water. “We need to plant this.” She opened her hand, revealing an acorn on her palm. “It’s an old marriage tradition. It’s said that when a couple plants a tree in their yard, it symbolizes putting down roots. This acorn, over time, will grow and strengthen, just like our relationship.”
“I love that.” Jesse knelt, pulled her knife from its sheath, and used it to gouge out a piece of sod.
Abby dropped the acorn into the hole and together they covered it with dirt.
As Jesse finished patting down the soil, Abby placed her hand on top of hers. Over the small heap, their lips met.
Jesse, Abby, Toby, and Aponi set out early for their trip to the other side of the mountain. Jesse paid careful attention to each detail along the way, as she had on her first trip to Ely. She wasn’t sure why but it was better to know the way than not.
It took them just over six hours to reach the native village on the western side of the mountain.
Kaga approached. “Welcome,” he said warmly. “Burning Bush, you come.”
Jesse glanced at Abby.
“Go on,” Abby said, waving her on. “We’ll be fine.”
Kaga led her to a hidden area deep in one of the hollows of the mountain. Just inside the entrance she stopped, scanning the cavernous space. Pictographs covered the vast stone walls. Although she had no idea what the markings meant, she had a pretty good idea they somehow documented the lives of these people. A fire burned in the center of the space, a group of men seated around it.
“Come. Sit.” A white-haired man motioned to her.
Jesse sat in the open space they’d made, legs crossed in front of her.
“You go off mountain. You speak with white men?” one of the elders asked.
Jesse nodded. “I did.”
“Any talk ‘em come on mountain?”
A chill overtook Jesse’s body, almost as if she’d been dunked in cold water. She understood at once their concerns. She too was worried, frightened even, about the possibility of men crossing the river and invading the mountain. “No. No men are coming.”
“We know ‘em come someday. White men always come.”
Jesse nodded in agreement. As much as she hated it, as much as she knew in her heart it was wrong, it seemed inevitable. She knew all too well one day white men would indeed find a way to cross the Devil’s Fork.
“We need to know when ‘em come. We no let ‘em take our land. We fight,” said another tribe elder.
Jesse knew what white men were capable of and she knew these kind people had the right to defend what was theirs. This rational perspective did nothing to temper the horror at the thought.
It will be war. The dead bodies from the magazine in Big Oak flashed through her mind. She felt sick.
“If I get word of anyone planning to cross the river, I will warn you,” Jesse said, trying to keep her voice from quavering. “I’ll stand beside you no matter the cost. We’ll stand together and protect our mountain.”
The men nodded to one another. The elder man who had invited her to the group held up a long wooden pipe. The decorative beads and feathers swayed slightly in his aged fingers as he lit it.
The shaking hands, the pipe, and especially the fragrant aroma escaping from it, all reminded Jesse so much of Frieda that for a moment she was back at the cabin, sitting on the old stump chair. She had forgotten how much she missed that smell.
The man seated next to her bumped her arm with his own, rousing her from the memory. He offered her the pipe. She graciously accepted it and took a long drag. A coughing fit overcame her as she passed it to the man on her right. The men chuckled, though their humor was not cruel.
Through watering eyes she watched as the pipe circled around to her once more. Smarter this time, she took a hit, but not quite as deep as the previous one. She coughed less this time as she eyed the pipe traveling in her direction again.
She managed not to cough on her third try. She blew smoke, passed the pipe, and let the room spin. Perhaps the coughing fits had been her body’s defense against what now made her feel like a child’s top. She pressed her palms to the cold stone floor, trying to slow the whirling sensation.
When it slowed, she found herself staring at the drawings on th
e walls. One depiction in particular caught her attention. It documented tribal history she knew. It was her history.
A young girl, hair painted red with hematite, was being hunted by a bear. The scene showed a native stick-man with his arrow trained on the beast. In the next images, the stick-man stood over the dead bear, and then he carried the young girl to a cabin where she was placed in the open arms of a woman. The bright ocher markings rippled and blurred into a river of blood as the imagery took motion. Her body felt numb.
“Eo ahst dik o tonk Burning Bush tuminik Great Spirit,” one of the men said, his voice deep and muffled. The group laughed out loud.
Jesse understood his words—smoking the pipe could make one see the Great Spirit.
I don’t think this is what Frieda used to smoke. The thought wasn’t funny, but she couldn’t stop herself from laughing.
The men around her stood. Jesse, trying to be straight-faced, followed suit. She focused her attention on the tribe elder directly across the fire from her as she swayed, a haze of smoke rising between them.
The elder took out his bone knife and used it to slice his palm. He handed it to Jesse over the flames, mimicking for her to do the same. She paused, the sharp blade resting against her palm as she gathered her nerve. Sucking in a breath, she drew the blade across her hand. Swallowing the pain, she stared as her blood pooled and then spilled onto the cave floor. Strangely, there was no pain.
The elder extended his hand over the fire and she met it with her own. They held their grip tight as all those gathered placed their hands on top of hers and the elder’s. The sizzle of blood falling into the flames echoed in the quiet of the great space.
As their vitality mixed and burned together, the old man reached into the pouch hanging off his hip. He drew out a pinch of powder and tossed it into the blaze. Colored flames leaped up, lighting almost every nook and cranny in the entire cavern.
The man released her hand. Ceremony completed, the man next to Jesse took her hand and wrapped it tightly. “Burning Bush one of us,” the man said, securing the wound with a small strip of hide. “We feast now.”
