by Betty Brooks
She could see through the woods ahead a glimpse of light and open sky, and knew she was fast approaching the meadow where flowers grew in such abundance beside a narrow creek.
Loping along its bank, Rainey followed the stream to its source; a spring that formed a shallow basin, which bubbled on the bottom, where water surfaced from beneath the ground.
As she drew nearer she heard the almost melodious hum of countless bees at work on the flowers surrounding the spring. She knelt beside the spring and watched the honey bees, waiting quietly until she saw one separate from the others and light on the water. It was mere moments before the bee rose and flew toward the forest, with Rainey hot on its trail.
The sky would have seemed empty to anyone not as experienced as Rainey, whose gaze never left the bee as it flew in a straight line toward its destination. But she was used to keeping sight of the tiny brown honeybees, had learned years ago . . .when Grandpa was still nimble enough to run . . . how best to do it. And she didn't worry overmuch about losing sight of her target, either. If that should happen, she had her syrup bucket of honey to draw the bees to her again.
The Watson family depended greatly on the bees. It was honey from their hives that made it possible for Rainey to acquire the funds necessary for their survival. And the last time she'd taken her honey to Elizabeth Crocker, who owned the general store at Lizard Lick, the woman had said she'd buy all the honey Rainey could supply.
That conversation was the reason Rainey spent more time these days running the bee lines. She needed the money her honey would bring.
The going became more difficult as Rainey entered the forest again, but she had known it would. It was impossible to follow a bee line as straight as the bee flew. There were too many obstacles in the dense wood land that human feet must overcome, too many logs to scramble over, too many windfalls that blocked her way. Even so, she managed to keep sight of the small lightbrown honeybee . . . until a loud whistle distracted her. Rainey spotted the intruder almost instantly. It was Willis Johnson. He leaned against the trunk of a spreading cottonwood tree as though the tree might need his weight to hold it upright.
"Hey, Rainey!" he called, straightening from his position against the tree. "Whatcha doin' way out here?"
"What do you think I'm adoin'?" she asked waspishly, remembering how he and his cousin had interfered with her bee hunt the day before. “I’m huntin' me another honey tree like I was doin' yesterday when you an' Zeke got in my way."
"You got a bee line?" he asked, tilting his head and peering toward the treetops.
"Why else would I be runnin' so fast?" she snapped, irritated by the certain knowledge that he had been waiting for her to pass this way. "And you better keep outta my way, Willis. I ain't got time to bother with you today. I gotta stay on that honeybee's trail."
She shifted her gaze back to the high trees. When she found no sign of the honeybee, she inwardly cursed Willis for interfering again.
Then she saw it. It was only a mere flicker of movement among the foliage high above, but it was definitely the bee. That knowledge sent her forward, leaping over a branch that blocked the trail, intent on keeping the flying insect in sight.
Willis wouldn't be so easily dismissed, she realized, when he began to lope along beside her. "You ain't gonna mind if I come along, are you, Rainey?"
"I do mind," she said, her gaze never wavering from the target as she jumped over a fallen log. "You know I can't keep my mind on what I'm doin' if I got company, Willis. Now go away and leave me alone!"
"Now that ain't neighborly," he complained, keeping pace with her.
"I ain't tryin' to be neighborly, Willis. I'm tryin' to find me a beehive."
''I'll just go 'long with you then. Four eyes is better'n two at spottin' bees."
Realizing he was bent on following her, she fell silent, concentrating on the honeybee. When she reached the bank of a wide creek, she plunged down the slope, slipping and sliding to the bottom of the forty-foot embankment. Then she waded quickly through the shallow water, which covered the creek bed, barely aware now of her companion as she tried to focus on the bees again.
The bee was nowhere in sight.
"Tarnation!" she muttered. "Where did it go?" Using the roots against the far bank as a ladder, she scurried to the top and raced into the woods again, following an imaginary line that traced the path of the honeybee. A flurry of movement high above caught her attention. She narrowed her gaze and spotted the honeybee, flying straight and true as before.
"I was wonderin' about somethin', Rainey," Willis said, puffing slightly as he joined her at the top of the slope.
"Go away, Willis," she gritted, leaping over a fallen log and into the heavy timber beyond.
"Now, Rainey,you ain't bein' polite," he whined, continuing to keep pace beside her.
"I ain't got time to be polite, Willis. Thought you'd already seen that." She hurried on, ignoring the young man who stuck to her side like tree sap to a pine tree.
It was more than an hour later before she reached the top of a knoll and saw the honeybee dip low into a deep hollow and disappear from sight. But the loss was only momentary. Mere seconds had passed before it rose above the far ridge and flew into the thick woods beyond.
Rainey felt an immediate concern as she scanned the area and realized there was little difference in the trees on that side. That meant there was nothing to mark the honeybee's point of entrance. But at least she had her bucket of honey with her. A good thing, too, because if she had lost the bee, then she would need the honey soon enough.
Knowing there was no time to waste, she plunged over the lip of the ridge, heading down into the hollow, with Willis sliding along beside her. He took advantage of their descent to plague her again.
"I been thinkin', Rainey," he said, his breath hissing through his teeth. "You know . . . about the square dance on Saturday. An' I done some deciding, too. I'm gonna squire you to that dance."
So that's why he was following her! Rainey decided to disuade him of that notion in a hurry. "I ain't goin'," she said bluntly. "Now go home and leave me be."
"Aw, Rainey, don't be thata way," he whined. "I come all this way just to make the invite. Least you could do is say you'll go!"
She kept her eyes on the slope she was descending, knowing she'd need to stop suddenly since it ended abruptly at the cliff high above Coon Creek.
Realizing she was fast approaching that point, she dug her heels into the rocky ground to slow her descent.
Willis took advantage of that moment to grasp her forearm, obviously intent on swaying her decision. "You'd have fun goin' with me," he coaxed. "I took Mary Lou Gordon last time, and she said she'd never had so much fun with anybody in her life. Ask her! She'll tell you! I'm real good at square dancing and-
"Rainey yanked her arm out of his grasp. "You leave me be, Willis Johnson!" she snapped, turning to glare balefully at him. "I done told you I ain't goin'!"
"Aw, Rainey, don't be thataway! We could-" He broke off suddenly, his eyes becoming round as silver dollars. Then, whipping out his hand, he gripped her wrist with hard fingers.
Angered beyond reason, Rainey yanked her arm away and plunged forward again. But she'd only taken two steps before she encountered empty air. As comprehension dawned, horror surged through her.
Then she was plunging downward, straight toward the creek thirty feet below.
Rainey had little time to contemplate her fate, but she felt death quickly approaching. Although Coon Creek had several deep holes, the normal flow of water was only a few feet deep, not nearly enough to cushion her fall from such a height.
Splash!
Rainey entered the cold water and waited for oblivion. She sank into its icy depths. And continued to sink. Down, down, down.
Then it came. Her feet struck the bottom, digging into the sand, and the impact bent her knees outward, her butt striking sharply against the back of her heels.
The impact knocked the breath from her
body. Without thinking, she sucked water into her lungs. As they began to burn, she kicked out frantically, pushing hard against the sandy bottom. She rose swiftly upward, bursting through the water to the surface, and coughed hard, spewing out the water she had sucked in only moments before. She gulped at the fresh air, which meant life.
As the burning in her lungs eased, she swiped at the wet tangles of dark hair that was blocking her vision. Then, blinking the water from her eyelashes, she opened her eyes . . . and realized she wasn't alone in the creek.
Thorne was treading water nearby, a look of complete amazement on his face. "Dammit, Rainey," he exclaimed. "Did you need a bath so bad you had to jump off the cliff instead of climbing down? Don't you realize you could have been killed?"
"I didn't do it on purpose," she sputtered. "That damned Willis Johnson was chasing after me, and I wasn't watchin' what I was doin'."
Thorne tilted his head then, and looked up the rock face of the cliff. He saw Willis Johnson leaning over the edge high above, his fright obvious even from this distance.
"You all right, Rainey?" Willis hollered.
"No thanks to you!" she replied in a loud carrying voice. "You get outta here an' leave me alone afore I climb up that cliff and give you what-for!"
As though intimidated by her threat, he jerked outof sight, and Rainey breathed a sigh of relief. ''Never knew him to be so dadblamed bothersome afore," she said shakily. "That dang fool caused me to lose my bee line again."
"Be thankful it was only a bee line you lost," Thorne said grimly. "You're lucky the creek was full enough so you could make that dive without being killed. I hate to think what would've happened if you'd fallen in where it was shallower." He frowned heavily at her. "You aren 't hurt, are you? Maybe we should check you over."
She noticed him then. Really noticed him. And her lips twitched in a mischievous grin. "Why, Thornton Lassiter," she exclaimed. "I do believe you're buck-naked!" She arched a dark brow at him. "Are you really wantin' to check me over, or do you just want me to check you, over?"
Her gaze probed the clear water, lingering on the mass of dark curly hair that covered his muscled chest. She studied him with interest. She'd never seen him without his clothing before, and the sight of his nakedness--what she could see of it below the water-made her senses reel.
Thorne felt himself flush beneath Rainey's scrutiny. He knew if she continued to look at him in that same way, he wouldn't be able to control his emotions, nor that part of his anatomy that betrayed his feelings.
"Rainey!" His voice sounded choked, but he wasn't surprised by that fact. His breath seemed to be caught somewhere between his lungs and his throat. "Where's your sense of decency?"
When she jerked her eyes upward, there was a look in them that made him want to snatch her into his arms and feel her against his hard body. And those darn clothes of hers didn't help at all. They clung to her like a second skin, the shirt plastered against her breasts, her nipples taut and erect. More than likely it was the cold water that made them so, but whatever the reason they were damned distracting. And his body was reacting to her presence in a way that would be obvious in a moment if he didn't break the spell that bound him.
He flailed at the water then, putting distance between them. He had chosen the path he would follow last night, when he'd decided to keep his feelings secret, lest they come between them and make it impossible for their relationship to continue. He must remember that. At least until he had a chance to feel her out, to search her innermost heart and learn her secret desires. No. He couldn't allow his desire to show, lest that desire frighten her so badly that she would never be inclined to accept him for a suitor.
He would bide his time for awhile, would try to make her look at him as a man who could be more to her than a friend. And at that time, if she was so inclined, then he would ask permission to court her.
But for that time to arrive, then he must do nothing to make her uneasy in his presence. And with that uppermost in his mind, he leaned lower into the water, and swam swiftly and surely with strokes that carried him to the opposite bank, where he'd left his clothing. Keeping his back to her so she wouldn't see the evidence of his desire, he waded out of the creek, picked up his clothing, and wound his way through the trees that would hide him from view.
Three
The sun was high overhead when Rainey mounted Samson and guided the mule down the trail that would eventually lead to the schoolhouse. She felt impatient with her errand-to invite the new schoolmarm to dinner on Sunday-because the new beehive still remained undiscovered.
Thanks to Willis Johnson! she thought venomously. She'd have found that beehive for sure if he hadn't pestered her until she'd taken that plunge over the cliff. Damn his ornery hide!
Their food stores were almost gone, and there was no way she could replace them without first selling an other batch of raw honey. The money gleaned from that sale would buy flour, soap, and cornmeal. Grandpa needed new shoes-not that he ever went anywhere and she could use another pair of trousers, because the ones she wore now had been patched so many times she had begun to apply patches over patches.
She cursed Willis again. She would have had the funds to buy those badly needed items if it hadn't been for him. It was his doing that she'd lost the bee line, and the bucket of honey she'd intended to burn had been lost, as well. It was pure luck the fall over the cliff hadn't killed her. It most certainly would have if she hadn't fallen into the deepest pool of water in Coon Creek.
A grin twitched her lips, and her eyes glinted with humor as she remembered how quickly he'd disappeared from sight when he'd seen Thorne.
Thorne.
He had been occupying too many of her thoughts lately, ever since she'd dropped into that pool of water where he was bathing. She felt a curious tingling as she remembered the way he looked beneath the water, his naked shoulders and chest rippling with muscles, the dark hair curling in a huge mat across his chest and tapering down to his waist and even farther below.
Rainey's lips twitched with amusement. "Ol' Thorne took off like a scalded cat when he saw me alookin' at him, Samson!"she told the mule. "Wouldn't of thought it, neither, him bein' a man of the world an' all. I 'spect there ain't too much that he ain't seen in his day." She considered his age, knew he must be over thirty years old. "Near his middle years," she mused. "But he's a good man, Thorne is. Been there to help me plenty of times when the need was there." She couldn't imagine a world without Thorne in it.
Samson stopped dead still, snorted once, twitched his tail and looked back at her.
"Get on there, Samson," she said, digging her heels in his flanks. He plodded forward again. "Hurry up there, mule." She smacked his rump with her palm, but his pace stayed the same. Samson had two speeds, she knew, slow and slower. "We gotta get to the school house while them kids are let out for dinner," she told him. "Else we'll set that new schoolmarm's neck outta joint. She ain't gonna want nobody frettin' her classes, or causin' a commotion by coming in whilst school is in session."
Rainey might as well have saved her explanation, because the mule paid her no heed, merely switched his tail back and forth as he ambled along at his slowest pace.
The narrow trail curved and wound through a dense growth of pines and live oaks, making it impossible to see more than a few hundred yards up the path. But that didn't matter. Even if it had been the darkest night, Rainey could have found her way. The noise from the school yard would have made it impossible to miss; the children shrieked and shouted and laughed, obviously happy at being let out into the sunshine for a while.
As she drew nearer, the noises became more identifiable. The loudest sound of all was the shrill, childish voice of a young girl. Counting.
". . . seven . . . eight . . . nine . . . ten!" A long pause, then "Here I come, ready or not!"
Rainey smiled wistfully, remembering her own years at the schoolhouse-few though they were. She had enjoyed the hide-and-seek game, too. She'd only completed h
er third year when her grandfather decided she was old enough to help him run the trap lines. His intent had been to use her in the fall and allow her to go to school during the winter, but it hadn't worked out that way. A bad fall resulted in a broken leg, leaving only Rainey to attend him. By the time the leg healed, Grandpa felt it would be a waste of time for her to attend classes that would soon be over. When fall rolled around again, the cold weather ached his bones so bad that he'd needed her help again. He'd never mentioned her schooling anymore. Not until recently.
"I see you, Chubby Caldwell! You're out! You're out!" The high-pitched voice alerted Rainey just before she saw the schoolhouse. Samson rounded a thick stand of pines, and Rainey saw it-a single-room building set in the middle of a clearing.
"You couldn't see me from there," a young voice shouted furiously, then Chubby Caldwell slunk from behind a thick plum bush. "You musta peeked while you was counting! Cheater! cheater!" he screamed.
"I ain't, neither!" a young girl about seven or eight years old cried. "I ain't a cheater, and don't you go callin' me one, neither."
"You musta cheated!" Chubby insisted, picking up a small rock and flinging it at her, although it was carefully aimed to strike a few feet away. Chubby was a good three years older than the girl and would surely get a licking with the teacher's strap if the stone struck her. "I hid really good. I-" He broke off as he caught sight of the new arrival. "Hey, Rainey! Whatcha doin' here?" He raced toward her. "Did you come to see Teacher?" Rainey grinned down at chubby as she slid off the mule. "Now why else would I be comin' here?" she asked solemnly. "Certainly not to see a bunch of ruffians like you all." Although she enjoyed being around children, there. were few chances available to her since most of her time was spent working to supply food and necessities for the cabin.
Ignoring her words, Chubby tugged at her hand. "When're you gonna take me on a bee line, Rainey? You said you was gonna do it an' you ain't kept your word yet."
"I don't break my word when I give it, Chubby Caldwell, but I just ain't had time to take you." She ruffled his brown hair affectionately. "I will, though. Just as soon as I find time. Right now I come to see the new schoolmarm. I guess she's in the schoolhouse."
