Catch a Shooting Star jd edit 03 12 2012 html

by Brianna Lee McKenzie

  “Do you promise to tell me when the time is right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I will trust you to honor that promise and I’ll never mention it again. And, if what you say is true and if telling me would change the outcome of our mission, I will wait until you are ready to reveal what it is that you think will change my perspective on my life.”

  “I appreciate that. And, I’m sorry that I brought it up.”

  “I am too.”

  “Well, to get back to what I was saying before I got off track and riled you up,” he began as he folded his frame onto the log that she had vacated earlier.

  “As I said before, I stayed there in the shadows of your house, just to make sure he didn’t hurt you.”

  “I was perfectly safe as long as my father was alive, I assure you.”

  “Well, I was not so certain of that. So, I waited until dawn and then when I saw you walk out onto the veranda in your night dress, I knew that you were safe.”

  “You saw me in my dressing gown?”

  “You didn’t seem like you cared who saw you.”

  “But, it was my home. How could I have known that someone was watching me?” she sat down on the log beside him.

  “I wasn’t the only one.”

  “Who?” she asked, twisting around to face him.

  “Your future husband. He was just a few feet below you, smoking a cigar and staring right at your half-naked body.”

  “I never knew…” she admitted, touching her fingers to her neck in surprise.

  “Obviously not. At any rate, I knew that you were safe, and since I had more pressing business elsewhere, I left you to your life.”

  “The life that is really not what I seem to know.”

  “You promised not to mention that again.”

  “I know. I just had to pester you one more time.”

  “Will that be a constant with you?” he asked, teasingly.

  “Not keeping my promises or pestering you?” she asked, lightning the mood.

  “Both,” Travis said with a chuckle.

  “I suppose that will have to be my little secret,” she said with a coy smile as she threw him a sidelong glance.

  “Funny. How very funny, you are. A fine funny bunny,” he said with a wide smile as he nudged her with a shoulder in a playful manner while he teased, “Maybe I’ll call you Bunny.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” she complained, for she deplored nicknames.

  “Why not? Don’t you like your new nickname?”

  “I’m not a rabbit,” Savannah said with a pout.

  “But you are soft like one and quick like one. And you have a Hell of a way of twisting out of a man’s arms like one. Yep, I think I’ll call you Bunny.”

  She nudged him back but did not protest further. If that is what he wished to call her, she wouldn’t ask him not to because, for some reason, she felt the inclination to please him, even if it caused her discomfort. And if it meant enduring another heart-pounding, knee-weakening blissful kiss that would surely send her straight to Hell when she died, she would allow him to indulge himself if he so desired.

  She slipped her hand onto his knee and whispered as she leaned closer, “Thank you for watching over me.”

  He covered her hand with his and squeezed it with warm fingers as he leaned closer to her. With all the emotion that welled inside his heart, he raised his other hand to lift her chin toward his face. With tenderness in his touch, he turned her face so that nothing but the chilled air that puffed between them could obstruct her view of the sincerity of his expression. Long, breathless moments crept by as he stared into those dark violet pools that reflected his face in the firelight before he leaned closer still. Then, honoring her wishes and without merging his lips to hers, he turned his face to press the warmth of his lips upon her upturned cheek before he whispered, “It’s my pleasure.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The amber dawn stretched a lazy hand to wipe the tears of the morning dew from the awakening desert. The reluctant sun winked through clusters of purple and black clouds, which gathered on the distant horizon, bestowing upon them a pink hue that painted the russet desert with a stunning golden-bronze tint. A silent call from within the earth told the creatures that had slept so peacefully to shake the weariness from their rested bodies and begin a new day.

  Savannah turned over inside her blanket and looked through the thickness of her lashes at the merrily dancing flames of the campfire. She moved her eyes slightly and saw Travis perched beside the fire, stirring a pan that bubbled over into the flames.

  Without looking in her direction, Travis said calmly, “I’d rather you didn’t wear that nightgown out here.”

  She picked up the blanket that covered her entire body and peered inside at the white cotton gown that she had squirmed inside the blanket last night to change into and she scowled at him for somehow knowing that she wore nothing but that nightgown. Her voice was accusing as she asked, “What?”

  His voice still calm, Travis told her, “You never know when a stranger might come up on us while we are sleeping, hold us up, ambush us, you name it. Or what if we have to leave in a hurry? You’d take too much time getting back into your clothes. When your life depends on it, you do what you have to do to make time on your side.”

  Realizing that what he said had made sense, she no longer felt anger at him, but appreciation for his concern for her wellbeing and she said quietly, “I understand.”

  She wrestled with the blanket as she tried to keep it around her in order to shield her half-naked body from him while she struggled to get dressed. But, then realizing that he had kept his back to her so that she could get her clothes on without being seen by him, she threw the blanket aside and quickly pulled off the nightgown and reached for her blouse. She shrugged into it and then stood up to step into her skirt. Next, she pulled her stockings on followed by her boots. Then, she crawled to her saddlebag that rested on the end of her pallet. She opened the flap and pulled out a brush and mirror and began to smooth away the tangles of last night’s sleep. With that done, she began to braid her hair into a long black shining rope which she slung over her shoulder to hang halfway down her back.

  She got to her feet and groaned with the soreness that shot through her body. Taking a deep breath, she stepped to the campfire and sat on a log that he had pulled close to the fire. In no way did she want to let Travis know that every inch of her body ached. She would get back on that horse and ride today and tomorrow and every day without so much as a peep of protest about the pain until they reached that God-forsaken hacienda and gave El Diablo all the pain that he certainly deserved.

  All this agony that she endured now will reap a handsome reward when this journey ends. This, she repeated to herself as she sat as she rubbed her calves beneath the cover of her skirt.

  “Coffee?” Travis offered, picking up the blackened pot and tipping it over a tin cup.”

  “Thanks,” Savannah said, accepting the steaming cup between both of her palms and lifting it to her lips.

  “You need to loosen up before you get back in the saddle,” he told her as he sipped on his own cup.

  She looked toward him, wondering how he had read her mind yet again, but asked, “How do I do that?”

  “I’ll show you after breakfast,” he told her, dismissing the subject for the moment as he reached for a frying pan.

  Savannah shrugged her shoulders and sniffed the aroma that wafted from the bubbling pan. She watched him coat two slices of bread in bacon fat and then fry them in the hot frying pan and then he filled two tin plates with the make-shift stew that he had put together early that morning.

  Hungrily, she took the plate that he handed her and began scooping the chunks of meat and tomatoes into her mouth. With that gone she wiped her plate with the toasted bread and then said with a mouthful of food, “It’s good!”

  “You’ll get used to it,” he joked, scraping his spoon over his empty plate.

&
nbsp; When she finished, she asked him while she stood up and reached for his dishes, “Do you want me to clean up?”

  “Nope. You just do whatever you ladies do that takes so long to come back looking just as pretty as you did when you started,” Travis said in jest but it fell upon perturbed ears.

  Savannah huffed a protest through tightly pursed lips, but handed him her plate and went to her bedroll to open her bags once again. She opened her canteen and soaked a cloth with the cool water and dabbed it on her face to freshen up. Then, she brushed her hair again, twirling it into a knot at the nape of her neck. She looked up to see if Travis could see her but he was nowhere in sight so she pulled out a fresh set of clothing, which she pulled on, grimacing with the stiffness of her limbs. In only a few minutes, she was fully dressed, her bedroll secured on her saddle and her bags repacked and ready to be attached to her saddle also. This done, she saw that Travis was walking back to the camp with a handful of clean dishes.

  As he neared his own gear, he knelt down and placed the dishes inside the saddlebag then picked up the saddle in a fluid motion, carrying it to where his Palomino stood. He saddled the horse, and then slung the saddlebags over the horse’s haunches, securing them with the thin leather straps that hung down from the skirt of the saddle. He slipped the bridle into Blazer’s mouth and then turned to help Savannah, who was struggling with her own saddle.

  She had carried it to her horse but her soreness had prevented her from being able to lift it above her waist. Travis took the saddle from her and effortlessly threw it over the dapple gray back of the Appaloosa. In one tug, he tightened the cinch under the horse’s belly, and then he slapped the saddlebags behind the saddle. He gently coaxed the bit into the mare’s mouth.

  Turning back to her, he put his hands upon his hips and surveyed her attire. Satisfied that she was dressed appropriately for the long and arduous journey ahead, he took her arm and guided her over to a boulder and said, “Now, let’s limber up. Watch me and do what I do and tomorrow won’t be as painful for you.”

  He lifted his leg to rest his foot upon the boulder and then leaned against it, stretching his leg as far as it would go and then nodding for her to do the same. She followed his lead and they stretched each individual muscle of their legs and arms until they were both limber and ready to mount up.

  Despite her stretching exercises, Savannah still struggled to step into the stirrup and swing her stiff leg over her horse’s back but she took up the reins as if she were limber and ready to ride. Travis steered his horse to stand beside hers and handed a cloth to her. She opened it up and found a fresh leaf of Aloe Vera. He winked knowingly and she rolled her eyes at him, but took the offering anyway. She dabbed her nose with the mushy, cold liquid and then placed the leftovers in her saddlebag behind her. Then, she touched a knee to her mount and followed her escort further into the desert.

  As the day crept into late morning, the horses began to tire. The heat of the blistering sun echoed off the arid and cracked ground, stifling the already dry air. Breathing came in labored gasps as the horses tried to take their riders just a few more steps. Travis’ Palomino shook its head and snorted, jangling the bit between its teeth. Travis glanced at Savannah, who was slumped in her saddle, mopping a damp handkerchief against the exposed skin beneath her blouse. He reined in his horse and motioned for her to do the same. He stepped out of the saddle and unhooked his canteen, shaking it gently next to his ear.

  “Not much water left,” he said as he looked at her with uncertainty in his eyes for the first time since they had met. “They’ll need it more than we will. Pour half of yours into this and give it to your mount,” he instructed as he handed the canteen to her along with a pot that the horses could drink from.

  Savannah did as she was told and poured half of the water into the pot and as the grey horse sipped greedily, she caressed the mare’s velvet nose. She hoped so much that this horse did not end up the same way that her last one had. Poor Dancer’s bones were probably still lying in a sun-bleached heap right where she had left him.

  Travis had been right to say that the horses needed the water more than they did, for they were carrying riders and all of their gear and having to walk in the heat, which made them sweat profusely. She wished that she would have known this when she had set out in the desert before. Perhaps Dancer could have carried her all the way through it. Then she would have her baby right now and she would not be making this trip back through the desert again.

  With the rationed water drained, the two riders mounted up and continued their southwesterly journey. For two more hours, they trudged across dusty ground, neither talking but keeping their thoughts to themselves. Savannah was looking around, thinking that she could remember the surroundings that they cross through. There was the giant cactus that she had stopped to marvel at and to her left was the mesquite tree that must have died in the last year or two. In the distance, she saw a clump of yucca plants that she had nearly been bitten by a rattle snake when she had stopped to cool off in its inviting shade.

  They did not stop to eat but nibbled on dried jerky and sucked on cloth that they had dipped in their canteens, as they rode southward at a slow, easy pace. As the afternoon sun slipped behind a puff of white clouds, the travelers were rewarded with a soothing spell of shade. Travis looked up at the sky and sniffed the air. The golden stallion beneath him smelled it too, for he sashayed to the side and dipped his head in excitement. Rain was coming. He could feel the fresh, cool, redeeming water that swelled in the darkening clouds that rumbled miles ahead.

  Travis watched for a flash of lightning and calculated the time it would take for the storm to reach them by counting the seconds for the sound of thunder to reach their ears. In about ninety minutes, a gusher was going to spill over this arid desert and he and Savannah had no place to run for cover. He looked worriedly at his companion and wondered how well she could control that skittish Appaloosa beneath her when the storm hit. Already, the gray mare was prancing and straining at the bit, causing Savannah to sit tense and alert in the saddle. He admired her composure for she handled her mount with patience and skill, talking soothingly to it and keeping its head in the sturdy grip of her hands.

  “Rain’s coming,” he told her, nodding to the southeast.

  “I see,” she said, squinting into the black, churning sky ahead. “Looks like the remains of a hurricane.”

  “Could be,” he agreed. “Whatever it is, we need to find cover and soon.”

  Savannah nodded and jerked back just in time to avoid being smashed in the head by her mare’s massive gray skull as the horse panicked from the approaching storm.

  “Can you handle that horse?” Travis asked with an arch of his brow.

  “I’m alright,” Savannah assured him as she shouted above the thunder. “She’s just a little nervous. She’s very alert and sensitive.”

  “More like she’s yellow-bellied,” he accused as his own horse danced in apprehension.

  “They’ve got a good reason to be afraid,” she shouted, patting the mare’s neck reassuringly. “They know they are out here with no cover.”

  “So are we,” Travis retorted as he scanned the horizon for a minute chance of a tree or rock that they could crawl under until the storm passed.

  Savannah started to reply, but a jack rabbit zigzagged in front of her and Dixie reared and wheeled around, squealing in fright. She held tightly to the reins and the saddle horn hoping that she did not slip to the ground and find herself being trampled by her frightened mare. When the Appaloosa stopped pitching and bucking, she let up on the reins with shaking hands. Savannah smoothed Dixie’s lathering neck, hoping that the gesture would calm them both down.

  “You alright?” Travis asked above the rumble of thunder.

  “Yes, we’re alright now,” she assured him as she steered the mare toward him. “The rabbit was just looking for a hole to climb into to get out of the rain.”

  Just at that moment, she remembered the
cave that she had found when she had been trudging across the desert before and she looked around to see if she could possibly remember where it was.

  “Wait a minute,” she said excitedly. “There was a cave somewhere around here.”

  She spurred her mount and squinted at the bleak and sparsely vegetated land.

  “Maybe we passed it,” Travis offered. “Maybe we should go back.”

  “No,” she said insistently. “It’s up ahead. I don’t know how far—a mile or two. It seemed a long way when I was on foot but it took half a day to get to that Saguaro plant back there so it won’t take long to reach the cave on horseback.”

  “It better not,” Travis said as he looked at the clouds above. “That storm is coming faster than I thought.”

  Savannah spurred her horse into a trot and searched the ground for that sage bush that covered the entrance to the burrow that she remembered ducking into years ago. A flash of lightning struck just a few hundred yards away, causing both riders to duck instinctively and then to nudge their mounts into a run. The rain came, at first, in sparse drops that plopped on the dry ground, making dozens of little funnels in the dust. Then, all at once, the sky burst into sheets of cool, refreshing rain that provided much-needed moisture to the arid landscape. But the blessing was accompanied by the warning of danger that flashed with every lightning bolt and loomed with every clap of thunder.

  The riders steered their nervous mounts to the left as Savannah saw the familiar sage bush which straddled a blooming yucca plant. She recalled how odd that the bush had looked with the long green shoot that had sported a mass of flowering pods at its tip. They quickly dismounted and hobbled the horses. Travis grabbed the slicker and saddlebags and followed Savannah to the swaying bush. He pushed the jutting limbs aside and peered into the small burrow. The opening was tight but he felt that they could squeeze through. Inside, the hole was damp but no water was seeping through yet. The cave was just large enough to hold two people if they huddled close together. He looked back at Savannah and thought to himself that he’d been in tighter spots with not quite as pretty companions. He’d manage this time too.